Something Good
by ThexInvisiblexGirl
Summary: AU/AH/slightly OOC: Bella Swan gets a bit bored of her job, until someone in the office across the street catches her eye in a window that overlooks her own. Please R&R!
1. Prologue

**A/N: hi everyone, I hope you're ready for a new story, because here it is! I didn't mean to write another All Human piece after **_**If You Were Mine**_** and its sequel, but this idea kept staying at the back of my mind, so I had to let it out. This story doesn't really have a purpose. I wanted to do something lighter after the previous one, so it's much more quick-paced and fun. I really hope you enjoy it. Review and let me know if you do ;) **

**I want to thank Mizra for yet another gorgeous banner – head over for my profile to have a look! **

**Disclaimer: the characters, as well as a few minor references to the **_**Twilight**_** saga, are the property of Stephenie Meyer. The title and various references along the story are taken from the film version of **_**The Sound of Music**_**, which is also not mine. I mean them no harm. **

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Something Good

**Prologue**

When I was a little girl, I spent every summer in a city called Forks, up in the state of Washington, where my dad resided. As someone who had spent most her life in Phoenix Arizona, referring to Forks as a city had always felt strange, and somewhat overrated. Forks is tiny, barely a spec on the map. Until I'd grown old enough to know the difference, I used to think of it as a town.

The city of Forks offers a poor assortment of entertainment for its inhabitants. Whereas most of them had their entire lives to get used to this fact, alongside with boredom and extreme weather, for me, an urban girl who had only seen snow on TV, it had been tougher to cope. Major part of my entertainment came from my dad's VCR set, and a limited selection of videotapes he had kept for me, some of which had miraculously survived his own childhood.

_The Sound of Music_ was my favorite on my dad's collection. The first time I watched it was with my mom one Christmas in Phoenix, but I was four and fell asleep halfway through it. The parts I _had_ watched I couldn't remember; so when one summer I found it at my dad's house, I watched it again. I must have been about eight. I wasn't sure what was about it that got me – the foreign culture, the historical background, Julie Andrews' angel voice – but I was instantly hooked. From then on in, I'd been waiting eagerly for my visits at Forks. Watching _The Sound of Music_ at my dad's living room with the rain tapping on the windows had become a tradition of sorts, a ritual. Even my mom knew better than suggesting we'd watch it together if it happened to be on TV.

By the time I was twelve, I knew by heart every scene, every song, and most of the choreography. My favorite song was _Sixteen Going on Seventeen_. I wanted to be exactly like Liesl, the eldest of the Von Trapp children. I wanted her wavy hair, her dancer's grace in those fluffy chiffon dresses, I wanted the guy. I thought that by the time I turned sixteen, life would be this; all dancing in the rain and chaste romance and a boy who would admire me and send me secret love letters. But then I _had_ turned sixteen, and none of it happened. That was the only year a visit at my dad's didn't include _The Sound of Music_.

When the VCR at my dad's turned its place for a more modern DVD player, my dad got _The Sound of Music_ on DVD to go with it. Despite that one disillusionary experience at sixteen, it remains my favorite film of all times; even today, at twenty seven, after accepting I wasn't Liesl and would never be, after learning that romance such as this one existed only on screen, or in books. It had become an integral part of my life. It's my comfort film. Whenever I need an ego boost, humming _I Have Confidence_ usually does the job. _Climb Every Mountain_ was one of the first songs that got into my motivation playlist when I created one on my iPod. Whenever I felt depressed about my lacking love life, I fantasized about dancing with my Prince Charming in a dimly lit gazebo. This is a well-kept secret, especially from my boyfriend of ten months.

I like to think it was _The Sound of Music_ that brought me Edward, even if it isn't exactly the case. I know he's perfect for me because he never makes fun of this weird obsession I have with this film. Even Alice and Angela, my best friends, had slipped once or twice. He never had. For my birthday several months ago, he arranged a trip to Salzburg, where we did a special _Sound of Music_ tour. He is the Captain Von Trapp to my Maria. He is my Prince Charming, my Happily Ever After, my everything. Knowing I was close to losing all this with a single wrong move makes me cherish all the more the fact that he is mine.

It was _The Sound of Music_ which taught me an important life lesson, one of many. _When the Lord closes a door_, Julie Andrews had said, _somewhere he opens a window_.

Well, a window is just where this story begins.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: whoa. You guys are awesome. I didn't expect a 2 pages entry would cause all this commotion! It seemed only fair to introduce the first chapter right away, so there you have it. I hope you like it as much – let me know if you do. **

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Chapter One

The phone on my desk buzzed once, twice, violently pulling me out of my absentminded gaze at my computer. I blinked until the indicator on the screen swam into focus. The ringing persisted, nearly deafening in my hazy state of half wakefulness. My mind slowly wrapped itself around the fact that the monotonous sound meant the incoming call was an internal one, from somewhere in the office. Reluctant and somewhat disoriented still, I reached for the receiver, hoping it would be Alice, asking if I wanted to grab a cup of coffee with her. I could definitely use a break, I thought, holding back a yawn as I murmured a greeting into the receiver.

Of course, it was silly of me to hope.

"Isabella?"

The voice was proper and businesslike, but concern was there as well, subtle and easy to miss, mostly hidden by more obvious impatience. I recognized my boss instantly, not just by that familiar tone, but also because she was the only one who had still insisted on addressing me by my full name, even though it had been over two years since I started working for her. "Yes, Mrs. Newton."

"It's almost half passed two. Have you finished your report on The Princess and the Lark?"

"Just wrapping up," I replied, trying not to panic at the sight of my nearly blank screen. I had a bunch of notes I started taking after lunchtime, but I could barely make sense of them now. I sifted through open, unread internet pages, wondering at which point of my research I began to zone out.

"Mike and I leave for lunch in a little bit. Could you make sure to have it on my desk before you head home?"

Always cool, calm, and incredibly oblivious. "Of course."

There was murmured conversation on my boss' end. I cringed, trying not to focus my thoughts on her obnoxious son, whom I knew was sitting there and probably overhearing me. "Lovely. I shall see you tomorrow morning then."

I wasn't even sure she heard my mumbled goodbye. I shrugged, indifferent, and yawned hugely as soon as I lay the phone down.

And to think it was only Monday.

It hadn't always been like that. I used to love my job. I felt lucky to stumble upon it so soon after college. Served all the skeptics right, especially my dad, who had still hoped I would have enrolled into the police academy rather than spending my time doing a master in English literature. I didn't even expect to find a job so fast after graduation, with merely nothing to stand out on my résumé apart for a recent temporary job at the library, and a few random gigs as an editor. Lucky for me, the Newtons didn't care much for résumés. People's quality, rather than their skills, was what mattered most, as my boss had drilled into my head since day one.

Harrison Newton inherited Rainbow Books when his father passed away thirty-odd years ago. At his father's time, it was one of the most successful publishing houses. But then his father got sick, which wasn't fortunate for neither the family nor the business. When Mr. Newton got it, Rainbow was in a really bad shape. Together with his wife Geraldine they brought the fire back. With a focus on children's literature, Rainbow Books was one of the most thriving publishing houses in the business, and I felt strangely proud to get a position there.

I didn't think I had a shot on that interview. I got there after a sleepless night in which I had tended my then-roommate Jessica, who came home drunker than ever before. I felt sorry for Angela (who is my roommate to this day), who stayed up with me as well and had an important exam the next morning. I almost missed my stop after nodding off to sleep on the bus on my way to Rainbow. By some miracle or other, Mr. Newton was impressed enough with me to overlook my muddled state of mind; I was to start the very next day.

On the surface, the Newtons looked like the Addams family gone wrong. She was tall and lithe, with long raven hair and cheekbones I envied. He looked more like Uncle Fester than Gomez, bulkier, balding, and barely reaching her shoulders. Mr. Newton had clearly been a handsome man a few years back. It was as if he had aged overnight once his father died. I guessed it wasn't easy to bear the weight of a growing empire on your shoulders. While odd looking, the Newtons cared deeply for one another. They used to hold each other when they thought no one else was looking. They were the first on the dance floor in any event organized by some publishing house or other. I thought it was sweet, not in an icky, clinging way. It was nice to know that in some cases, time hadn't killed off romance.

Working for the Newtons had been… an enriching experience. Granted, I had learned so much from them, especially from Mr. Newton who seemed determined to pass on the craft that had become his life. He was very knowledgeable; I'd come to see in him the grandfather I had always wished I'd have. It was a bit tougher with Mrs. Newton, who had always talked a little too much, and tried to set me up with her son in a way that had been less than inconspicuous almost since day one. But all in all, despite a few ups and downs that seemed inevitable in every line of job, they were good, honest employers, and I knew they had expected the same amount of professionalism and integrity from me.

It was almost surreal at first, to think I got exactly what I wanted. It felt almost unfair to win this position while most of my friends were still struggling. It was still strange for me to hear one of my parents tell people _this is my daughter Bella. She's an editor on Rainbow Books; THE Rainbow Books_. Strange, but incredibly uplifting. I was proud of myself for being able to make my parents proud. And I was grateful for the opportunity to do something I loved, something I was good at, without having to compromise.

I wasn't sure at which point of the way my enthusiasm began to waver a little. Routine kicking in, I thought at first, the tediousness of the job, or perhaps both. But it was more than my job lacking this initial spark of excitement. Recently I'd hardly even done my own job. Lesley, who worked at Rainbow as a lector, the one who decided which manuscripts would eventually make it through the publishing process, had resigned, and the Newtons couldn't find proper replacement for her. It was a golden opportunity for me, Mr. Newton had said when he summoned me into his office, to learn a new trade in the line of my job, to open myself into new directions. And so I'd become a temporary lector for Rainbow, along with my editing job.

Subbing for Lesley seemed easy at first, manageable, but I soon learned that coordinating between these two positions was more complicated than I thought. It got to a point where I barely had the time to do my own job, being too busy with reading manuscripts that weren't even that good. Often I had to take some of them home to catch up during the weekend. My desk was constantly cluttered with paperwork now, and Mrs. Newton was always on the other end of the phone, adding daily tasks to my already growing to do list. At the end of each day I'd collapse in the living room of my apartment, exhausted. Angela made fun of me saying how one would think I had a job at a factory. Honestly, it was tougher than it looked to the external observer.

The bottom line was that I was growing tired, physically and mentally. I loved my job, but as long I was doing someone else's work, I couldn't focus on what I'd come here to do, what I'd been hired to do. When I spoke to Mr. Newton about it, he promised me it was only temporary, that soon he would be recruiting new employees, one of which would surely fill in Lesley's place. That was over three months ago, and the pile of manuscripts on my desk had only grown taller since then.

I glanced over my shoulder at the window, and sighed wistfully. It was one of those windows that didn't open all the way according to some unknown security regulations. The view wasn't exciting – my office was overlooking the neighboring building, which was too close to even be considered 'across the street'. I did have a piece of sky on the right corner, a reminder of the outside world. And besides, at least I _had_ my own window, my own nook in this buzzing office. Having my own private space was one reason I was reluctant to do something as extreme as quitting my job. I'd put up with all the crazy as long as I had my own place to escape to.

There was a rap on my door. I tore my eyes from the window and straightened up in my chair. My attention set on the computer screen again, I let my fingers fly along the keyboard, pretending to be typing. If Mrs. Newton decided to check on me before leaving, I wanted to look busy. "Come in."

Looking up from my screen at the person who walked into my office, I was partly right. "Hello, beautiful."

"Mike," I muttered, looking away from my screen for only a second. I didn't even bother to blush or stutter at his compliments anymore. It only seemed to egg him on, anyway, which was something I did not want to do.

Mike Newton was my bosses' only son, the one who would eventually inherit Rainbow Books. A little older than me and reaching thirty, Mike wasn't married or involved with anyone to the best of my knowledge. He was waiting for the right woman to come along, Mrs. Newton had confided in me in one of those heart-to-hearts I'd been forced to have with her. She was getting a kick out of praising her only son in my ears. In everyone's ears, actually; anyone who would listen. He had always been very gifted, she told me. He started talking when he was less than a year old. As a toddler, he had already mustered his reading and writing skills. By the time he was ten, he had already read classics like _War and Peace_. He didn't have one degree, but three, the most recent one being a master in brain sciences or something just as prestigious. He thought PhDs were a complete waste of his time and talent; he'd rather have a master in various fields than focus on one profession that would ground him down.

I let my eyes meet his for a second, and revulsion hit as it had always had. It's not like he didn't have the potential. He was tall and kind of lean, although I knew for a fact he wasn't working out. You'd expect he'd inherit his mother's feline features or his father's fierce look, and whereas he did look a lot like the two of them, he was a feeble version of them, like a bad imitation of an incredible work of art. I'd always thought men who were wearing glasses were sort of hot, but Mike pretty much killed off that impression. His specs were the Harry Potter type that wasn't sexy or flattering to say the least. His blondish-brown hair had always been greasy, always in desperate need for a haircut. He still had skin problems; more than once I found myself tempted to give him the phone of Anastasia, the one who'd done all my facials ever since I had settled in Seattle. His voice was screechy and high-pitched, like a boy on the verge of puberty. While trying to disguise it as deep and sultry (as he had just done), he just made me cringe.

I don't usually do that – judging people by their looks. Well, okay, I do, more so than not, but let's be honest – who doesn't? And in Mike's case, it really wasn't the question of rejecting him because of his looks, because his personality was hugely lacking as well. I don't think this trait of mine makes me a bad person. It's not like I think I'm some kind of Lady Fabulous. When it comes to my own looks, I'm incredibly unconfident. I don't think I'm the most beautiful woman on the planet – I most certainly am not. I'd always thought of myself as ordinary – _too_ ordinary, to be honest. I'm nothing special – average height and average complexion. I lack Jessica's glamour or Angela's charm. I don't have Alice's feisty personality. I'm just another brunette, just one of million.

I guess you could say that rejecting Mike Newton because of his looks is wrong and even cruel of me, but the way I see it, it was sort of necessary. From the moment we'd been introduced, he convinced himself that he and I really hit it off. It had become a sort of routine, him making moves I constantly had to push off. It was amusing at first, like a sport I was not used to. But lately, along with everything else, it was just getting on my nerves. So when he showed up at my office calling me _beautiful_, all I really wanted to do was staple him to the back of my door.

"I heard you were on the phone with Mother," he said, sitting across from me although I hadn't invited him to sit down. "So I thought I'd come and say hi."

I nodded, trying hard not to gag. "How… nice of you."

There was this naughty spark in his eyes, and I inwardly cursed my too-soft character. I should have said something nasty to get him the hell out of my life for good. Jessica would have gotten rid of him months ago.

"So, do you have any exciting plans for this weekend?"

Inwardly, I rolled my eyes. He _would_ ask me about the weekend when he had barely had a chance to recover from the previous one. To be honest, between watching a bunch of sappy movies and possibly spending Sunday in Forks, there was nothing in my life I'd refer to as exciting. Mike Newton didn't necessarily have to know that. "Sure, loads."

"Any of which could include me?" Behind his specs, his eyes looked hopeful.

"Parties, mostly. And alcohol; lots of it. Not your thing." Sadly, it was something we had in common. Not that he needed to know this particular fact.

His face fell; he was too inexperienced to not let it show. "Oh. Well, call me if you feel like getting together." Perspiration glistened on his forehead as if the idea excited him. I winced, but too lost in mental images, he didn't seem to notice. "The Aquarium has a new display. You wouldn't want to miss those sea turtles!"

I tried to join his laugh, but the sound that came out was high-pitched and quivering. Mike, however, remained oblivious to my distress. Anticipation lingered in his slightly red face. "Umm, Mike? Your mom will start wondering where you are if you don't join her soon," I said, nodding towards my door, which – I had only just realized – was shut.

"Yes. You're right. Mother will not be kept waiting." There's one more thing you should know about Mike Newton. He _worshipped_ his mom. Quite literally. He'd kiss the ground she walked on, if he could. Often he'd told me how he had admired her, how she was his role model, how he didn't want any girl who wasn't like her, how alike she and I were. I'd always resented him for this last input. Geraldine Newton and I were _nothing_ alike. I didn't want anything to liken me to her. I didn't want any resemblance to encourage him further. Things were bad enough without it. "You have a good day, Bella."

"You too. Enjoy lunch." I bit my lip as soon as I said it. Too kind, again. It was official. I'd never be able to get rid of him.

As soon as I was alone, I released the breath I didn't even know I was holding. Every time he stalked me into my office felt like walking on a tightrope. I was running out of excuses, and he didn't seem able to take 'no' for an answer. I even tried to tell him I was involved with someone else, which was completely untrue. I thought that if I came up with a story believable enough, he would let it be. So I told him about Jacob Black, whose dad was one of my dad's closest friends. He was one of a few guy friends I had, so I thought he'd do. Apparently, I wasn't convincing enough. Or maybe Mike found the competition encouraging. He did seem to pay me extra attention after that.

A second knock came on my door. A soft groan escaped me, despite my attempt to hold it back. "I'm on the phone, Mike!"

"No, you're not."

The voice, which wasn't Mike's, was a blessed interruption for once. I sighed in relief at the sight of Alice waltzing into my office. Alice Brandon was one of Rainbow's illustrators, a damn brilliant one, who had somehow become closer to me than any other person here. She was merely a year older than me, but it didn't stop her from constantly referring to me as her baby sister, because, according to her, I still had a lot to learn about the way life worked. Needless to say, she'd taken it onto herself to teach me everything. It had become her life goal since I started working in Rainbow a little over two years ago.

My friendship with Alice was of a different sort than the one I had with Angela. Angela and I had a lot in common. We were like sisters who looked nothing alike. Alice was the person I had always wanted to be: beautiful and witty, one who knows all the right answers and never gets herself into unnecessary trouble; like Jessica, but nicer, less of a snob.

"You, my friend, are a rotten liar," she accused me now, waving a perfectly manicured finger at me.

"What do you want, Alice?" I loved her, but the pile on my desk seemed larger than ever, and I really wanted to head home on time, for a change. Alice had a tendency to talk endlessly, and somehow beat deadlines at the same time. Sometimes I wished I could be as efficient. I was okay on deadlines, but I could never muster the art of chatting and working at the same time. I needed my peace and quiet to get my job done.

"I was on my way to get some coffee, and I bumped into that wimp Mike – I'm in desperate need for a shower now." She stopped to let out a dramatic sigh. "Anyways, I assumed he came out of your office, so I wanted to make sure you survived."

"Just barely," I replied, reaching for a thick folder on the top of the pile. I didn't want to contemplate the meaning of her words. If she assumed he came out of my office, would my other colleagues assume the same thing? Had people considered Mike and me an item? The thought alone made me shiver.

"You know I wasn't too fond of your roommate Jessica, but you could definitely learn a thing or two from her with that kid."

"_That kid_ is thirty in a few months, Alice," I dryly pointed out.

"My _point_ is, it's time you put an end to it."

I snorted. It _sounded_ simple. It probably _was_ simple, for people like Jessica or Alice, for whom being blunt was part of the charm of their personalities. "Knowing me, I'll try saying something offensive, and I'll end up dating the guy." Or worse, spending a night with him. I shuddered with dread.

"Do you want me to take care of it?"

We'd been there so many times before. "Thanks, Alice, I got it."

"I'm serious. I can get Jasper on it too. He's into martial arts now."

Jasper was Alice's fiancé of three months. I was going to be one of her bridesmaids in July. They were the sweetest couple – when they weren't into setting me up with guys from Jasper's office. "I'm sure Jasper looks hot in those kimonos or whatever the hell those guys are wearing, Alice, but I like him too much to subject him into fighting Mike off. It's sweet of you to offer his services though."

"You know, there's one obvious solution to this situation," Alice said, leaning back in her seat in a position that was both idle and businesslike. "In fact, it's _so_ obvious, it's easy for you to overlook."

I rolled my eyes. Knowing Alice, it could only be one thing. "No offense, but I'm not really into any of the guys at Jasper's work. Or the girls, for that matter."

"You haven't even _tried_!"

"Dating girls? I'm pretty sure I'm into guys, Alice, but thanks for thinking about me."

"I'm not talking about _that_, you idiot!" she giggled, throwing a pencil at me. "You should give them a chance before you screen their calls after merely one date!"

"Alice, don't you have a wedding to organize?" She was right, in a way, but I wish she'd mind her own business rather than dwelling on my non-existing love life. It was my fault I'd set my standards too high. I'd brought it on myself, and I wished she'd just let me handle the consequences on my own. "Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do here, but I – "

The phone rang just then. It was Cherrie from PR, asking if Alice happened to be in my office. Her tone suggested that she had already known the answer. I stammered an affirmation, and promised Alice was on her way. Guilt began to consume me when I placed the phone back down. It burned all the way to my ears. This was another reason why I didn't like chatting and working at the same time. I'd always got caught.

"You're off the hook for now, Isabella Swan," Alice said on my doorway, "but if you think I'm through with you, you're wrong. We'll work this out."

It was one of those lines that had always freaked me out. Alice had the most unconventional methods to work things out. I was feeling sorry for Mike already.

I reveled at the sudden silence, the calm after the storm. I leaned back in my swivel chair and stretched, feeling each and every sore muscle, a memento from Thursday's Pilates session, wondering how on earth I'd managed to let Angela talk me into enrolling into this class with her. We didn't attend it regularly, because of Angela's crazy work schedule. For me, even that was more than enough.

I opened my eyes, took a deep breath, and forced my attention back on my report.

My concentration was broken about three minutes into my intense staring at the screen. I turned my chair to face the window again, sighing in frustration. I had to hand in _some_ input by the time I left the office today. By the looks of it, I was in for yet another evening of working overtime. I envied Alice. No one asked her to perform tasks she wasn't supposed to. She was an artist. She didn't need to stoop so low, to endure so much shit, just because our boss was unwilling – or simply too lazy – to hire new blood.

A hint of movement in the window opposite to my own put an end to my internal rant. I jolted, startled as if someone tapped my shoulder. It was silly to react this way considering I was alone in my office, but for one crazy moment, it didn't feel I was alone. It almost felt…

It felt as if I was being watched.

My blood froze in my veins; then began to pump faster. My pulse was suddenly erratic, unsteady. A chill shook me, and I could feel the skin on my arms begins to crawl. You've been reading too much Stephen King, I scolded myself. It was the thing my mom had always warned me against. Avid reading was making me paranoid. My imagination was going over the top. It was making me see things that weren't really there, force meaning on the otherwise meaningless. I had always dismissed her concerns, but now I thought that maybe there was something to it.

Feeling like a character in a Hitchcock movie, I straightened up in my chair, got up, and slowly approached the window. The venetian blinds were only partly open, and I strained to look past them. If I squinted, I could make out the figure in front of the opposite window quite clearly. The sunlight fell all wrong on the next building, so he was nothing but a silhouette. _He_, because it was clearly not a woman. I couldn't make out much else in the poor light. I blinked, and squinted again, but he stayed there, unflinching.

It shocked me how intense his stare was, even from a distance. It was as if he could read every emotion on my face and far beyond. A chill ran down my spine, startling me. A nervous laugh escaped me at my childish reaction. But then I lifted my gaze back to his, and laughter shifted into a gasp. The unfamiliar eyes were burning, strangely insistent, watching my every move. And I found myself rooted to place, mesmerized, unable to even look away.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

It was as if time as I'd known it ceased to exist. Hell, it was as if the entire _universe_ ceased to exist. Suddenly nothing mattered, not the obnoxious Mike Newton or my unfinished report for his mother, not even the fact I'd probably have to stay extra to finish it. For this one moment, my world – not just my field of vision – was filled entirely by this stranger, whose gaze – penetrating even from a distance – held mine captive.

For a moment that's all it was, nothing but this wordless dialogue our eyes had been engaged with.

When he moved, it was so abrupt I gasped loudly. Disappointment hit instantly; I knew it meant a reluctant return to my dreary, tiresome routine. But instead of just turning his back on me like I'd expected him to do, he nodded in my direction. It was a subtle motion, but one nonetheless. My first reaction was blink, then stare at him in shock.

_Me?_

A smile broke the seriousness on his face. In my mind's eye, his eyes were gleaming. _Yes, you_.

Blood rushed through me, setting my face on fire. I dropped my gaze, an instinct, as if he could somehow detect the blush that colored my cheeks. But temptation was too strong. Not three seconds later, I lifted my eyes again. He wasn't an apparition of my exhaustion, like I'd begun to fear. I blinked, giving him one more chance to vanish. But he didn't. When I opened my eyes, he was still there, still watching me with what seemed like amusement. My second gasp was one of disbelief; because this man, the one who made me blush from the tiniest hint of acknowledgement, was beautiful.

I didn't know how much he could see through the partly open blinds, and so I tried to be inconspicuously observant. The suit he was wearing lacked a blazer. The sleeves of what looked like a blue dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows. His hair was tousled, which sort of complimented the unkempt look he seemed to be sporting, along with his loosened tie. I couldn't make out many colors – neither of his eyes nor of his hair – but somehow it didn't matter. Even in the shadows, his beauty was startling.

Before I realized what I was doing, my arm was half raised. I waved at him before I'd made a conscious decision to do so. The smile on those seemingly perfect lips grew an inch. He nodded again, and returned my wave.

I stared at him transfixed, like a child would stare at a magician. I took in the way the material of his shirt stretched over his forearms when he raised his arm. He had long fingers, I noticed, like a pianist's. There was nothing I wanted more than dashing downstairs, crossing the street and hunting this gorgeous man down.

Or you could just open the window and have a better look at him, an inner voice reminded me.

As usual, fate had other plans for me.

The loud shrill came literally out of nowhere, tearing into the silence in my office and shaking me as violently as if someone had slapped me. It took me a moment to even realize it was the phone. Still disoriented, I launched at it, stumbling over some books on the floor and nearly spilling a half empty coffee mug as I ended up in my chair.

"Hello," I breathed, and let my eyes fly across the desk to assess the damage.

"Did you fall asleep?"

"Alice," I groaned. I was furious with her for interrupting me, but extremely relieved at the same time. I had half-expected it to be Mr. Newton on the other end. Then I remembered her question, and shook my head. "No, I didn't fall asleep, I was – "

"Well, it took you long enough to answer your phone."

"You wouldn't believe what just happened."

But I regretted the words as soon as I had uttered them. I had a feeling that Alice, with her ridiculous sense of adventure, would send me off to do just that, go downstairs and hunt him down, and I wasn't entirely sure I was keen of that idea yet.

"What happened?"

"Ah, nothing exciting. I just nearly spilled coffee all over my notes for Mrs. Newton."

"That's because we need to unclumsify you, my darling friend! Seriously, it amazes me sometimes how you're still alive."

I chuckled humorlessly. Wasn't it enough that my dad had more often than not referred to me as magnet for trouble; now my reputation had extended to my working place too?

"_Anyway_, since Cherrie has cut off our conversation so rudely – "

I was familiar with this practical tone. I feared it. "Alice, I can't really do this right now," I blurted out, my voice quivering in panic.

"Sure you can, it's not like you've got tons of work to do!"

As a matter of fact, I had. But for this one moment, it wasn't work I was so eager to get back to. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

I slammed the receiver into place without waiting for her reply, and spun in my chair to face the window, but by the time my eager eyes zeroed on the place he had previously occupied, I realized I was too late.

He was no longer there.

xoxox

I left my office two hours later than I normally would. I was so exhausted that by the time I stumbled into my apartment and landed on the sofa, it was as if the window incident had never happened. Who knows, maybe Alice was right and I _had_ fallen asleep. Suddenly it seemed impossible to believe otherwise. Guys like that only existed in romantic comedies.

I took in the room around me. Everything was immaculately in place, so I knew Angela must have tidied things up a bit before she left for work. She was a practicing nurse, and had done mostly night shifts at the local hospital. I'd hardly seen her ever since she started her residency at the hospital a few months ago, but I was happy for her for being able to find a job she enjoyed, a place that suited her. I envied her. I couldn't even look at blood without feeling queasy. She had to handle it on a daily basis. She was so good at what she did.

I couldn't help the sigh that escaped me. _I_ used to be good at what I did before my bosses started giving me other people's tasks. This thought brought me right back to this afternoon's frustration, and everything that followed.

He couldn't have been a dream, I told myself, kicking my shoes off with more vigor than necessary. He just couldn't. He was there, he was real. When he looked at me, it was as if nothing else mattered. It had never happened to me before. There was this… something… between us. I was sure of it.

I chuckled bitterly. It even sounded ridiculous. This was exactly why I couldn't bring myself to tell Alice anything, why I knew I wouldn't tell Angela if I could help it. It would have to be my secret. Maybe I was going crazy. Served me right. I should have listened to my dad and become a policewoman.

It was too early to go to bed, so I decided to do the laundry because it was my turn this week. It would give me a chance to finish the Atwood novel I'd never got around to finish. After piling up my own laundry into our basket, I wandered into Angela's room. It was mostly tidy, like the rest of the apartment, aside for her bed which was a mess. I chuckled as I swept aside a few stray tee shirts and shorts and two copies of _Medicine Today_. You'd expect a girl who wore uniform for work would leave a bit more order behind her.

The laundry room at the basement was deserted, which was a relief because I didn't feel like getting social with any of our neighbors. I quickly stuffed the items into one of the machines, adjusted the temperatures and turned it on. Then I chose a high stool by the counter in the corner and opened my book, determined to go ahead with my reading.

Had the washing machine always been so damn loud? I could hardly hear myself think. I shut my book, and let my eyes wander across the room. Someone had left a battered copy of _Elle_ on the counter across the room. I hopped off my stool to get it. I leafed through it absentmindedly. Angela and I had never brought fashion magazines into the apartment, so the laundry room was really the only place for us to catch up. Hmm. I had a blue blouse that looked exactly like the one the model was wearing. And I was pretty sure I had a similar skirt, so if I wore both to work tomorrow…

Wait, what was I doing? Why was I planning to dress up for work? Even if he were real, that was no excuse. I barely knew him – well, that's not even accurate – I didn't know him at all! For all I knew, he was mistaking me for somebody else, someone he might actually be interested in, like this model, for instance. I eyed her with dismay, her full lips, curling in a sultry pout, her slim waist and endless legs. Yeah. That's the kind of girl a guy like him would take interest in. I was too plain for the likes of him.

xoxox

I tossed and turned throughout most of that night. Eventually I thought I fell asleep, because darkness wrapped itself around me so completely. I blinked, but I couldn't make out anything among it. And then, a way ahead of me, there was a brighter glow, and I found myself moving towards it, reaching out for it. I took small steps with my hand outstretched, terrified of falling over. There was nothing around me, and the silence was eerie. And then, out of the nothingness, a pair of golden eyes locked itself on mine.

I started, and jolted awake.

The brightness of my room was so sharply contrasted with the darkness I'd just been pulled out of, that the light hurt my eyelids. The silence was no longer, just the familiar sounds of an awakening neighborhood. I groaned, and ran a hand through my hair. Some way to be brought back to the ground.

I just sat there for a moment, in the middle of my bed, trying to stabilize my shaky breathing. Just a dream, I reminded myself as I buried my head in my hands. Yesterday came swimming back, and I groaned again as it all washed over me. I wasn't doing such a great job in forgetting things if he was beginning to star in my dreams. Sure, the bit about his golden eyes was as realistic as saying vampires actually existed, but anything could happen in dreams. The intensity of his gaze was as real as yesterday afternoon.

My alarm went off just then, and I knew there was no way out. I had to get up and face the new day and whatever it was bound to bring. I got ready in a haste, pulling on the blue blouse and a skirt almost without thinking. I couldn't find my lip gloss anywhere, and from some reason it irritated me. And then I thought there was good chance it was still in my handbag, which I'd left in the living room when I stepped in the other evening. I hurried there, and found Angela, still in her uniform, having breakfast by the kitchen counter.

"Hey, you're back," I said, stating the obvious, as I started taking items out of my bag. I was so engrossed in what I was doing that I hadn't noticed her at first, but when she didn't reply, I looked up. Her mouth was slightly open as she stared at me, her spoon suspended in the air. "What?"

"Look at you," she said. I felt myself blush at the hint of appreciation her remark carried. "What's the occasion?"

"No occasion. I was doing the laundry last night, and I saw something in a magazine that inspired me." Well, half the truth was better than none.

But not enough for Angela, as I should have guessed. She narrowed her eyes at me. "Either Alice has finally managed to make a fashion icon out of you," she started slowly, as if thinking it over as she spoke, "or… you're trying to impress someone."

I just snorted, and busied myself with throwing everything back into my bag. No lip gloss anywhere. Damn. Annoyed, I walked over to get some coffee.

"As long as it isn't your boss' son."

I lowered the coffee pot just in time. "I think you know me better than that, Angela."

"Exactly." It sounded as if she was smiling. I turned to face her, and the confirmation to my thought was stretched across her weary face. "So who is he?"

"It's nothing. No one. It doesn't matter."

"You seem to think otherwise or you wouldn't be dressed up like someone who's just stepped out of _Vogue_."

"It was _Elle_, actually." She smiled, but the pleading lingered in her stare. I knew what she was asking without actually asking it. I sighed. It was useless. She wouldn't let it go until I'd say something. "Something weird happened at work yesterday."

And after that, there was no stopping it. I told her everything, to the tiniest, unimportant detail. I told her how I first noticed him through the half open blinds. I told her what he wore and what he looked like. How he nodded towards me and how I waved at him. And how Alice, oblivious Alice, had made him go away.

"So how come you haven't told Alice about him?"

"Have you listened to a word I just said? She would have thought I was crazy… or she would have forced me to look for him."

"Don't you _want_ to go looking for him? _I_ would."

"If I did, I'd find out one of two things. Either he has made a mistake, thinking I was somebody else, or he's some improved version of Mike Newton." Both options made me cringe. I wanted to hold on to my fantasy version for a little longer.

"But then again there's the third option… that he _was_ good looking and he _has_ meant you." She pinned me with a look, one I knew it was impossible to argue with. "Do you even know what's in that building next to yours?"

"More publishing houses. Journals and magazines, mostly. I don't know what's in each floor, though."

"Well, if you're curious, stop at the lobby of the other building before work and have a look."

"And risk bumping into him? No way!"

"That will guarantee some more interesting interaction," she said, winking.

I sipped my coffee hastily, and decided to run another search in my bag. "I really have to go – have you seen my cinnamon lip gloss by any chance?"

"The Special Occasions cinnamon lip gloss?" There was feigned indifference in her eyes. I sulked, and she flashed an innocent smile at me. "I think it's on the shelf in the bathroom."

"Thanks," I breathed, and dashed down the hall. I found it where Angela had said it would be, and squeezed a bit of the sparkling stuff onto my finger. I puckered my lips in front of the mirror, wiped my finger on a tissue, and raced out again. "Thanks," I told Angela, who had just put her bowl in the sink. "So how was work?"

"It was okay. Dr. Cullen told me he was pleased with my work, which might eventually get me out of the night shift limbo." She got all dreamy-eyed when she mentioned the name of the senior doctor in her staff, her boss for all aims and purposes for the past few months. I had never met him before, but I'd heard enough of Angela's stories to know exactly what he looked like: a godlike blue-eyed, fair-haired doctor, whom star quality follows wherever he goes.

"Should Ben start worrying?" I teased her, reaching for my keys.

"He could be my dad!" she protested, giggling. "His sons are my age. He has _grandkids_, for God's sake. Besides, I heard his wife is lovely."

"They're always married, or gay," I batted my lashes dramatically.

"Or handsome strangers who make a move on you through windows."

"Touché," I laughed. "Get some sleep."

"Chinese tonight?" she called after me when I was half a flight down.

"You bet!"

If everything else failed, there was Chinese to look forward to tonight, at least.

xoxox

Although I had half-expected to be late, the bus dropped me off before our complex ten minutes too early, just the time I needed to stop at Starbucks and get myself a nice cup of caramel latte. Then, latte in hand, I walked promptly passed the neighboring building, refusing to stoop as low as following Angela's plan and playing detective. I returned our doorman's greeting, and ignored the way his eyes lingered on my skirt a little longer than appropriate.

The first thing I did after striding into my office, even before turning my computer on, was lifting the venetian blinds until they hit the window frame with a metallic squeal. My tiny office was instantly washed by the morning sun. I frowned at my computer screen, knowing that it would be impossible to work properly until the sun shifted in a few hours. Then again, I told myself, this way there should be no doubt about the view.

For the first two hours or so, I forced myself to be professional, an obedient employee. I'd done everything Mr. Newton had asked me to, and I didn't allow myself any distractions. I did steal a glance or two (or two dozen) over my shoulder, but the office across the street seemed deserted. Well, maybe they were keeping a different timetable over there. Maybe he wasn't on an eight to five schedule.

As the digital clock on my screen approached lunch time, I could feel my heartbeat increasing little by little with each second. My skin began to prickle with what I told myself was not anticipation. Another quick glance at the window showed no change. I huffed impatiently. Where was he? The more time passed, the more I'd become convinced in what I'd begun to believe so far – that he was nothing but a figment of my imagination.

"_Whoa_! Sunny, much?"

I squinted, forcing myself to snap out of my misery. Alice was standing on my doorway, pretty in coral and midnight blue. She stood there shading her eyes and watching me curiously.

"Vitamin D," I improvised a reply to her enquiring gaze. "Angela said I looked too pale."

She burst into laughter at that. The sound was high-pitched and musical, like wind chimes. "You'll need a _lot_ more than that to get yourself a tan, dude."

"Gee, thanks, Alice," I muttered, saving the document I'd been working on.

"Of course, it would help if you spent summers down in Arizona rather than in Forks."

I rolled my eyes. She came over to Forks with me once, and never let me forget it. "My mom doesn't live in Phoenix anymore, remember?"

"You can get similar results in Florida," she dismissed me, smiling sweetly. "Anyway, enough arguing. Come on, up you go."

"What? Why?"

"If it's sun you want, I'll take you to it. We're going out for lunch."

Her cheerful statement made me freeze. I'd been waiting for this break all morning so I could properly stalk my window; how could I possibly tell her I had no intention to go out, at least until that guy showed up?

"I… I think I'll just skip lunch today, Alice, I've got so much work to do, and – "

"Nonsense, Bella, you need a break! Come on. We don't have to go out for long. We can share a sandwich. I can't eat too much today because Jasper and I have another samples session tonight and – oh my _God_, what is _that_?"

I tucked my hair behind my ear, trying not to feel self-conscious by the way she was gawking at me. "What is what?"

"_You_, looking absolutely _stunning_!"

"Just something I found at the back of my closet," I mumbled, my cheeks flaring beneath her inspecting gaze.

"Well, well, well, Miss Swan," she said slowly. I winced at the mischief I found in her eyes. Please don't let her push further into this. "If this is how you mean to keep Mike off, you'd better change tactics because it isn't going to work."

"I'll keep that in mind," I dryly agreed, stealing a final glance at the window before I followed her lead outside.

xoxox

I said goodbye to Alice as soon as I thought was appropriate without being rude, made sure everyone's attention in the hallway was diverted, and sprinted to my office. In the last few steps, my feet, protesting against the unusually high heels I had forced them into, betrayed me, and I keeled over, holding on to my desk for support. My head was reeling when I looked up again, still out of breath. I glanced at my door as I limped the remaining distance to the windowsill, and forced myself to exhale slowly before I allowed my eyes to focus.

I hardly ever swear, the result of having a kindergarten teacher for a mother and, worse still, a chief policeman for a father. But at the sight of the office across the street, dark and unchanged as if no one was working there, I couldn't stop the string of nasty words that slipped, easily and unleashed, through my lips. Needless to say it hardly helped anything. It wouldn't make him show up. At that point, though, I was still filled with childish hope that he might.

xoxox

At ten minutes to five, I struggled to accept defeat. He wasn't coming. Disappointment filled me to the core. I packed my things sluggishly, trying to push this silly, infantile resentment away. My finger caught on the bag's zipper when I tugged at it a little too forcefully. It didn't hurt that much, but I cried out anyway. I bit my lip against the tears I could feel stinging at the corners of my eyes.

My behavior was irrational; more than irrational, it was stupid. It wasn't like we had gone on a really great date, after which he hadn't called me back although he'd promised. I didn't know the first thing about him. He didn't owe me anything. He didn't make me any promises.

But then again, for a moment there, I thought – I _hoped_ – it could be the beginning of something.

I sighed, feeling like an idiot. And then, in one swift, determined motion, I pulled at the string that was attached to the upper frame of the window, and let the blinds fall as low as they could go.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

By the time I got home, I was a mess of self pity. All I wanted was to take a shower and spend the rest of my feeble existence watching chick flicks. I already had a list of the worst ones in mind, when gleeful, carefree laughs that resounded from the other side of the door swiftly and cruelly crashed my bubble. I cringed. I loved Ben and Angela, but today any display of affection was enough to send me over the edge.

From a first glance at them, you'd think Ben and Angela had been together all their lives. They looked like one of those classic cases of best friends turned lovers, always so comfortable around each other as if they had been together forever. But the truth was that Angela had known Ben as long as she had known me, which is a little over three years – their first date was the weekend I moved in with her. Ben wasn't spending a lot of time here recently, not since Angela started doing night shifts at the hospital, so naturally it meant our place had become unusually quiet. Normally the silence bothered me; of course, on the one day I was actually looking forward to it…

"Oh, here's Bella!" Ben announced as I let myself in.

"_Oh_!" Angela squeaked, nearly choking on a piece of muffin. She jumped to her feet and began to sort of prance around me as I dropped my bag on the sofa. "How did it go? How did it go?"

I shot her a glare, mortified, and threw a panic look at Ben. The last thing I wanted was to have my humiliation publically known. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when Angela shrugged.

"Oh, he knows all about the window mystery man," she said casually.

Ben raised his arms in what looked like self defense. "Guilty as charged."

"It was supposed to stay private," I muttered.

"Ah, come on, Bella! You wouldn't deny me a little dose of excitement, now, would you?"

"I thought working with cartoons was supposed to be exciting."

"You do realize I don't actually _work_ with the cartoons, don't you?" he asked, rolling his eyes at me. Ben did a technical job I didn't really understand in a company that specialized in dubbings for animations. It was the source of never-ending teasing on my end, and never-ending scolding on his. "Now come on, stop trying to divert us. Tell us what he said!"

I felt almost bad to burst their bubble. "He didn't say anything, because he wasn't there." I paused, allowing them to take this in. "I'm going to take a shower, and then we can order that dinner, okay?"

I made the mistake of meeting Angela's gaze for a second. She looked as if I slapped her. I looked away as soon as her eyes found mine. There was something stronger there than compassion; I couldn't handle it. "Oh, Bells…"

"It's not a big deal," I cut her off, struggling to maintain a calm exterior. If I was going to make a fool of myself and fall apart, I wanted to be alone when it happened.

"It's not worth getting upset at."

I nodded, and escaped down the hallway and into my room before she could see the tears I could feel blurring my vision again.

xoxox

Nothing managed to lift my spirits the next morning, not even _My Favorite Things_ on my comfort playlist. Angela suggested swapping shifts with one of her colleagues to have dinner with me after work, but I turned her down. I had a feeling my gloom wouldn't cease by then.

It was silly to let this thing have such an affect on me. So what if he was the first guy in a very long time who's managed to stir something within me? For all I knew it was just a game for him, a manly display of power. With the way he looked, he could easily get any girl he wanted. I shouldn't be so upset, but at the same time I couldn't help it.

"_Men_! Can't they do _anything_ right?" Alice sighed dramatically as she stormed into my office at about ten in the morning. I recognized her mode of attack, and hurried to shut the door before her high tones would attract some of the office's infamous eavesdroppers. She collapsed into my chair as soon as I vacated it.

"I mean, _seriously_! All I asked Jasper to do was find a decent chef for the reception. I do _everything_ – the clothes, the flowers, the music, the redesign of my parents' garden, and the _one_ thing he's in charge of – Bella, are you listening to me?"

And I wasn't, not really, because there he was, over Alice's shoulder.

I couldn't decide if it was excitement that began to bubble within me, or just pure irritation, at the sight of him standing there. How typical. I spend the majority of yesterday stalking that damn window hoping he would show up, and then when I turn my back on it for two hours…!

He smiled at me as soon as our eyes met. I was too stunned to return it. His features twisted into a different expression, as if he was laughing. It turned my knees into jelly. I looked around frantically, searching for something to hold on to. I grabbed the frame of the chair across from mine for support.

"_Bella_!" Alice's voice was shrill and furious, shaking me out of my stupor.

"Yes, sorry, go on," I breathed, but it was insanely difficult to keep up with her rant with _him_ watching me so closely. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure any second, Alice would notice. Her image was somehow fleeting to the margins; he filled my vision completely. I couldn't look at anything else.

_Where have you been?_

_I took yesterday off. A family emergency. My grandmother's cat swallowed her keys and I had to take it to the vet. Nasty business._

Inwardly, I sighed dreamily. My imaginary Prince Charming _would_ take the day off to attend his grandmother.

"… and _then_ he tells me, why _wouldn't_ people like chocolate dip for their chicken wings? It would be perfect for the gold and brown theme, too! Won't you just _die_?"

"Outrageous," I agreed on a rant I didn't even hear her begin.

"_Ugh_! I have to do everything my friggin' _self_!"

"Aww, don't be mean; I'm sure he was only trying to help, in his own odd way."

But instead of being comforted, she snorted. "_Help_ is _not_ suggesting chocolate as dip for chicken wings. Or suggesting my bridesmaids – _my bridesmaids_ – would wear geisha outfits in a martial arts themed wedding!"

At this point she leaped out of my chair. I ducked out of her way just in time as she lunged at my door, all but tearing it out of its hinges as she got it open. "Which reminds me, I'd better give my dressmaker a call, ask how those dresses are coming along, before there are any more disasters on the way."

She left as she had arrived – with a bang. I heaved a sigh of relief, and made sure no one was thinking about going into my office before I shut the door. I smoothed my hair, forcing my breathing back to normal. Then, slowly, I moved towards the window and peered through the blinds, which were half shut, like two days ago.

He was waiting for me with his arms across his chest. His dress shirt was white, folded to his elbows again. There was no blazer again, and his hair looked as tousled as I remembered. A smirk lingered on those full lips, as if he could hear every bit of Alice's crazy monologue.

_Sorry_, I mouthed, nodding towards the place Alice had occupied.

He shook his head ever so slightly. _That's okay_.

Behind the blinds, my window was open as wide as it would go, but it was barely enough to poke my head or even my hand through it. You'd think it was deliberately made to prevent people from jumping out. Did they think people were really that suicidal, or were they relying on past experience? A quick glance at his window showed that it was of the same kind, probably made by the same company. So we were reduced to eye contact only. Ah, well. I'd better make the best out of _that_, at least.

I hesitated, but only for a second. I reached for the thin string and pulled the blinds up. I squinted against the sudden sunlight. When my vision cleared, I noticed a grin of approval curling on his lips, followed by a nod. _Much better_.

I dropped my gaze, blushing. Although I felt uncomfortable with his attention, the vain part in me regretted he had to witness my unkempt appearance of a dull black jersey dress with my hair pulled into a messy twist instead of yesterday's _Elle_ combination. I looked up and smoothed my hair again, as if that would do any good. I pretended to notice a dimple forming on his chin when his smile widened.

There were so many things I wanted to ask him, so many things I wanted to know. I wanted him to tell me where he really was the other day, what his name was, if he'd have coffee with me after work. I toyed with the idea of grabbing a piece of paper and writing down a question, but quickly dismissed it. It wasn't a huge distance, but I doubted he'd be able to read anything, no matter how thick a sharpie I'd use would be. But I couldn't just stand there and stare at him like an idiot all day.

He made the decision for me a few minutes later. One of his colleagues walked over to him with a folder. I watched them as they discussed something. Then he nodded and sent his colleague off. When he next looked up at me, there was sorrow in his eyes.

_I have to go. Will I see you later?_

I felt my lips curl in a smile. _I'll be here_.

And for the rest of the day, I didn't seem able to shake that smile off.

xoxox

It felt like the longest day, but also the shortest. It was the shortest, because I couldn't get enough of stealing glances in his direction. Each time I did, it was as if he could feel my eyes on him because he always looked back. I would blush and look away, only to turn my gaze back to him about four seconds later. But it was also the longest day because, by the time it was nearing five, I thought my heart would swell with emotion I couldn't really name. I didn't dare to say a word to Alice, who was still furious with Jasper about the whole chocolate and chicken incident, and would attack anyone who had tried to go near her.

I didn't know if Angela would be home, but suddenly I hoped she would. That morning, I was looking forward to coming home to an empty apartment, but now I really wanted to tell this to someone. But I should have known better than that. She was waiting at home for me with that anxious look on her face, one which quickly disappeared when she noticed my idiotic grin. It turned out that she had swapped her shifts with her colleague anyway. As soon as I told her what happened, she launched on the phone. My news justified a pizza night.

"I told you he would show up," she said.

"Umm, actually, Angela, you haven't."

"I have. You just had a problem listening the other night."

"I'm sorry. The whole thing was stupid." Now that he was back and everything felt right again, I was horrified by the way I reacted the previous night.

"No, it wasn't. I know what it's like to have your dreams crashed. We all do, I think."

I thought her statement was a bit dramatic, but it didn't feel right to point it out. Besides, there were other things bothering me just now. "Ben must think I'm such an idiot."

"Ben loves you. You know that. It's great to have a girls' night, though, isn't it?"

It was. Recently I had found myself surrounded by couples: Ben and Angela, Alice and Jasper, Jessica and the guy of the week (or month, if he were lucky). More than making me feel pathetic for being not only the youngest, but also alone, it made me feel all left out. All my so-called relationships thus far had been fleeting. I'd never managed to sustain a real, solid, long-lasting one. It was difficult to explain to all of them what I'd been looking for, that it would only feel right when _he_ showed up. And until he did, the others were just not worth spending time on.

"Oh, actually, there was something I wanted to ask you."

I blinked, sending the image of my Prince Charming away. "What?"

"Next week is our charity gala at work."

"I remember." Just the other weekend, we went shopping and got her the most beautiful dress, a floor length purple gown that was supposed to take Ben's breath away.

"Ben's boss is sending him to a convention in Boston that weekend, so he won't be able to come with me."

"Aww, Ang, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, it sucks. And I finally got the evening off to attend this thing. I should have known something would go wrong; it was just too good to be true."

Her disappointment was heartbreaking. I knew how much she'd been looking forward to it. "No one else can go to Boston?"

"No. He tried. He can't get away with it. But he came up with an idea." She looked up at me, and her dark eyes were pleading. "Since the invitation is a plus one anyway, he said you could go with me."

"Me?"

"Sure. You can't have anything against dressing up… and fancy dinner… and you don't have to dance – I won't, because Ben won't be there. We can go on a single and dateless theme!"

"I don't have anything to wear for a charity gala."

"We have until next Saturday to find you something stunning, then!" Her tone meant no arguments. And then her gaze became softer, pleading again. "Please come with me, Bella. It will be too humiliating to go alone."

I'd already decided to go with her without her having to use that pout on me. "Sure. Okay, I'll go."

"Excellent," her smile was blinding; it made me smile as well. "So how's Sunday for a bit of dress hunting?"

I groaned. Considering I also had a fitting session for my bridesmaid dress with Alice due this upcoming Friday, it was going to be a pretty horrific experience. Shopping in general and dress hunting in particular was not my thing. My entire wardrobe included about five dresses, none of which I'd chosen by myself. Thankfully, Angela was less aggressive than Alice when it came to shopping, so I knew I should feel somewhat relieved. Either way, though, to say I wasn't looking forward to it was quite the understatement.

xoxox

Apart from one creepy experience of dress fitting with scary Alice, as the week drifted to a close, I realized it wasn't as bad as I had feared it to be. It was actually sort of bearable. It was mostly due to the constant presence of a certain mystery man in the office opposite to my own, who made any sense of time dispense. Aside for that one miserable absence on Tuesday, he was in his office every day ever since. And as soon as I had spotted that hint of movement in the opposite window each morning, as soon as I had caught his eye and he returned my smile, everything else became secondary.

If it was possible to fall in love with someone based on a week of wordless interaction, I was head over heels for him already. Oddly enough, it didn't bother me that I hardly knew anything about him. Somehow, the lack of knowledge added something extra to this strange acquaintance. And unlike Angela's attempts to coax me into finding out more about him, I preferred to keep things as they were, at least for a little longer.

Suddenly, my monotonous work day didn't feel so monotonous. There was still Mike's constant nagging, Alice's insane tales about her wedding preparations, and Mrs. Newton's ongoing string of bizarre orders. In fact, I worked twice as hard to get everything done ahead of deadlines. It was more than my fear to be caught flirting with a next door guy while I was supposed to be working; I didn't want to be lagging behind. The pile on my desk remained as monstrous as ever, and growing larger still since I was spending more time looking through my window than at my computer screen. This was exactly why I took some work with me for the weekend. I knew I would do better working from home, where no distractions lurked so close by.

When Angela and I went out for what she hoped would be a successful shopping spree, I told her I needed to stop at my office and drop some of the manuscripts there. Since we were already in the area, and they were heavy, it made more sense to me than having to carry everything around on Monday morning.

"Is this the window in question?" she laughed as soon as I showed her into my office. She walked over to it and peered out at the building across the street. "It's closer than I thought."

"Not close enough," I replied, dropping the folders on the top of my 'done' pile.

She leaned over the windowsill and tried to poke her head out. Then she flashed a devious grin at me. "Hmm. If you took a rope and threw it over to his end, you could climb back and forth."

"Alright, let's get out of here before you come up with more brilliant ideas," I laughed, steering her out of the room. I stole another glimpse at the window before I shut the door, a habit I'd picked up during the passing week.

Angela still looked contemplative when we stepped back into the sun, and I feared she was coming up with more James Bond like ideas. Before I managed to question it, though, she spoke. "I just want to try one thing."

"What?"

She was heading towards the neighboring building before I managed to stop her.

"_Angela_!" I yelped, and started after her. "What the hell are you _doing_, get back here!"

"Don't be such a coward, Bella, come on!" She threw me a challenging look from over her shoulder, and coolly walked into the building.

"_Ugh_!" I moaned, and hurried after her. I was two years younger than Angela, but there were times such as this one where I thought this age difference could be easily diverted. Wasn't _she_ supposed to be the mature one, the one who had to restrain _me_ from doing crazy stuff?

I sighed in exasperation, and hastened my steps, the faster to catch up with her.

The lobby was similar to our own. A big billboard next to the elevators listed all the companies that resided in the building. Angela turned to face me as if she heard me approach. She ignored the glare I aimed at her. "You're on the fifth floor, right?"

I just nodded, trying to ignore the frantic ringing in my ears. I was too busy glancing over her shoulder at the doorman, who might realize at any point that we were trespassing. So what if we didn't mean to break into any of the offices. We weren't supposed to be there! Since it was the weekend, there weren't many people around, which meant our actions would stand out even more. What if he'd go over to us and –

Angela's victorious outcry shook me out of my reverie.

"_Medicine Today_! Oh, boy, you sure know how to pick 'em!"

The name rang a bell, but only briefly. And it didn't help that I was still scared stiff to be busted spying on him. "Am I supposed to know what it means?"

Angela rolled her eyes. "It's only the most successful and well known medical journal of the last few decades!"

Come to think of it, I did remember seeing a few issues of it scattered around her bedroom a few days ago.

"They have excellent reputation, you know. They only hire the best."

"Maybe he's no one important."

The smile that curled on her lips was almost Alice-like. "Maybe… and maybe not."

"Either way, we are _not_ going up there to have that confirmed or denied. We've already walked in here against my better judgment and I'm not…" I stopped and took a deep breath, struggling to compose myself. "I'd really rather shop than stalk some guy whose name I don't even know!" I hissed, because the doorman's attention was already set on us (or so I thought).

"You _could_ know his name, if we went up there," she winked at me, and glanced at her watch. "But yeah, I guess we'll have to leave the second part of this adventure for some other weekend."

Inwardly, I cheered.

Once out in the street, I allowed myself to breathe again. A sudden gust of wind whipped against my face, cooling them. Angela kept prattling about the potential in dating a staff member of _Medicine Today_, and how her dream ever since nursing school was to publish one of her future researches there. We were halfway towards the bus station when I suddenly halted.

"_Ouch_!" Angela cried out in protest as she bumped into my back. "Bella, what the hell?"

I just stood there completely still for a second, too stunned to even shriek. He was about fifteen steps ahead of us next to Joe's hotdog stand on the sidewalk. Desperately in need of something to hold on to, I made Angela cry out again when I grabbed her arm.

"_Hey_! What are you – "

"_Him_."

I didn't have to say more. Her eyes flew forward, following mine, and she uttered the exclamation I had intended to, and forgot.

"Are you relieved we haven't gone up now?" I hissed as soon as I found my voice again.

"Bella, he's… he's _gorgeous_!" she whispered back, as if there was some chance we might be overheard.

I was barely listening. My eyes were all for him. He was farther than normally, because the distance between our windows was smaller than that, but his image was far clearer, without all that glass between us. I stared at him fascinated, as if I was seeing him for the first time. And in a way, I was.

"What are you still doing here?"

"Huh?" I blinked, disoriented.

"Go over there and introduce yourself!"

"What? _No_!"

"Why the hell not? Look, this is the opportunity of a _lifetime_! You didn't want to stalk his office, that's fine, but he's _right here_! Stop being such a wuss and go over there!"

She gave me the slightest nudge forward. The motion made me snap out of my frenzied stupor. I took in the sight of him, dressed casually in a gray tee shirt and tight fitting jeans. Somehow it was better than those business suits he'd never seen comfortable wearing. The stubble on his chin made me wonder if he wasn't shaving during the weekend as a rule, or whether he simply didn't get a chance to this morning. Either way, he pulled off that look well, as I had somehow known he would. He was clearly on good terms with Joe. The curl of his lips was familiar. If I squinted, I heard a hint of laughter. It was the first time I heard his voice; well, a certain variation of it. I smiled to myself. I liked what I heard.

Before I knew what I was doing, the image of him was suddenly closer. I moved forward without really meaning to, like that first time I waved at him nearly a week ago. My pace was slow, but slightly more confident now. I could do this. It's not like I was going to hit on a total stranger. We'd known each other for a while now. It was about time we'd take this acquaintance one step forward.

But before I'd done the four remaining steps that would bring me close enough to tap his shoulder, two small children suddenly intercepted me and launched themselves at him.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"Bella? What's wrong? Hey, wait! Bella!"

Angela's voice passed right by me, as did everything else after I'd just witnessed sank in. I walked passed her, passed everyone, until I caught sight of a bench just off the road. I collapsed on it, heaving, and clutched my head between my hands. My head was reeling so bad, like after a rollercoaster ride; I was sure I was going to be sick. Refusing to suffer more public humiliation, I closed my eyes and tried to focus on breathing through my nose.

There was a shuffle of feet coming closer, and a shadow fell in front of me. For one panicky moment I thought it might be him, that he had noticed me after all, but it was only Angela. Concern was clouding that mischievous smile from earlier on as she knelt in front of me. "Hey… cold feet?"

Unable to speak, I shook my head.

"Do you want _me_ to talk to him? I'm sure he'll think it's cute if you got all tongue-tied as soon as you saw him. I mean, _I_ would get tongue-tied, if I were you, so it isn't really…" Her voice trailed off as soon as I looked up and faced her. Whatever she found in my face made her stop talking at once. "Bella, what's wrong? You look sick!"

I _felt_ sick. To my stomach. I looked in his direction again. The two children were prancing about him now like puppies, giggling and squealing in delight, pulling at his shirt from time to time as if to get his attention. He was laughing along with them before he handed them each a hotdog. If I squinted I could notice the similarities between him and them, a girl of about five or six and a slightly younger boy. They mirrored him, in an odd kind of way, except for their hair, which was strawberry blonde. Probably like their mother's.

I didn't even get a chance to process this last thought when they were joined by an exquisite blonde about two seconds later.

Angela's eyes followed mine. She gasped as realization hit her as well. "You don't think – "

"Think?" The word was a high-pitched squeal almost, a voice I couldn't believe was my own. "It seems pretty obvious."

I tried not to linger on the woman for too long, but it was nearly impossible to do so. Her beauty was radiating, making every man on the sidewalk (and some of the women too) turn their heads and stare after her. Her hair was a lighter shade of blonde, almost golden. Even while pulled back in a ponytail, it looked thick and flowing, like those girls in shampoo ads on magazines. Standing next to him, she looked like his equal, his perfect match.

I forced my gaze on him again. He gave the little girl money, and said something to her, smiling in encouragement. Then he scooped the little boy in his arms. The girl stood on tiptoes to hand the money over to Joe, who took it with a smile and handed her change. She turned, awfully proud of herself, and took the woman's outstretched hand. I watched them as they walked away. In my wounded mind's eye, it looked as if they were moving in slow motion.

"His?"

"Who else's?" My voice was thick with tears. I could feel them too, stinging in the corner of my eyes. I blinked angrily, sending them away.

"But if they're his, if she's… why would he – "

"How the hell should I know?" I didn't want to know. It didn't matter. I'd never felt more humiliated in my life.

Neither of us said anything for a long moment. I was half aware of Angela coming to sit on the bench beside me. I stared at nothing ahead, struggling to calm down. The ringing in my ears slowly ceased; the nausea did not. I didn't realize I had my arms wrapped around my middle, but I didn't dare remove my hands. It felt as if I might fall apart if I did.

"Did he see you?"

"I don't think so." I didn't care either way. Even if he _had_ seen me, at least now he could sleep peacefully knowing I was onto his lie.

"You need to calm down, Bella. I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation to all this."

"Yes, a perfectly reasonable explanation as for why a married man would be choosing to make a complete fool out of someone by flirting with her." Seriously, what kind of a sick joke was this? What had I ever done for God or whoever it was up there to taunt me that way? Was it some kind of a test? If it was, I had just failed, miserably.

"Well, he was talking to that man with the hotdog stand; I can go over and as – "

"_No_!" I just about yelled at her, but regretted it as soon as I had. I felt awful. I just wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. It felt as if the entire street had witnessed my shame. It was a silly thought, and yet I couldn't help it. "Please, can we just… go home? I don't feel like going shopping anymore."

Concern formed deeper lines on Angela's forehead now. Her hand covered mine, and the touch was gentle, hesitant. It brought new tears to my eyes. "Of course. We can go home."

And on the way there, in the cab Angela had insisted on hailing, I stared emptily out of the window and tried not to think about this nameless guy who had stolen my heart, or the wife and children I had never known he had.

xoxox

The next day, as if on cue, the weather changed. The sun was suddenly gone, and big grey clouds hung low and dark in the sky, as if it wasn't springtime already. Everyone else complained about the weather – in the morning news show, on the bus, in the office – but I didn't mind it much. It was the perfect reflection of how I felt – grim and miserable. At least there would not be a need to get that window open.

"Hey, what's up with you?" Alice asked me when I met her in our office kitchen. She glanced at my face, and then at the mug of tea I was stirring absentmindedly. "Is everything okay?"

"Stomach flu. It's nothing."

"You look like you haven't slept all night."

"I haven't."

"You should have taken today off, then," she reasoned. I envied her sometimes. It must have been nice up there in Aliceland.

"I've got tons of work to do. I'll just… lock myself in my office until it's five and won't take any calls."

"You do that," she said, and smoothed my hair. I was shocked she'd left it at that; I guess I did look bad.

Once in my office, after shutting my door, I shot a resentful glare at my window. The blinds were lowered but parted, so I could still see the office across the street. I placed my mug on the desk and walked over to the window. I parted two blinds with my fingers and peeked through them to get a better view. It was still dark over there, which didn't surprise me now. It was probably his turn to drop the kids at school.

I'm not sure at which stage of that never ending, miserable day I started feeling his gaze on me, but at some point I did. I turned slowly in my chair, grateful to be mostly hidden behind the blinds. He was standing in front of his window, as if he was trying to see through them. There was a part of me who wished to tear them out of my way, the part who wished to see him smile at me again. But there was another part, the more reasonable one, who remained cold and unforgiving. I pulled at the blinds until they straightened, creating a screen between him and me. And this way, as shut as my heart, was how they remained throughout the following week.

xoxox

It took a few days, but eventually I could feel myself recovering. It was mostly due to the fact there was finally something to look forward to – that gala at Angela's work. I was counting on it to keep my mind off things. I needed a distraction desperately. Angela and I went shopping on Wednesday, and found a really beautiful dress. Lacking Angela's height, I didn't choose a ball gown. My dress was knee length and it actually made me look a bit taller, which I liked. The salesgirl said it was navy blue, but the color looked more alive to me than that. It made my usually pallid skin more alive, as well. There was nothing overly sophisticated about it, no frills or flowing material, just thin spaghetti straps and a bit where the material shrank beneath the chest; but I felt comfortable while wearing it, and for me it was what mattered most.

"This was actually fun," I told Angela later while we were sipping milkshakes in our favorite diner. It _was_ fun. Who knew the solution to my crappy mood had been a bit of an ego boost all along?

"It's fine to say that to me, but be careful not to say anything next to Alice," she laughed; "She'll force you to do this once a week."

"I'll make sure to keep my mouth shut."

"I really like this dress we chose. I'm glad you didn't compromise on the pink one in the first store."

"Yeah, me too."

"Pink always reminds me that dress Jessica wore to that party," she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the memory of a party I'd forgotten all about. "Did I tell you she called the other day? You were still at work."

"What did she want?" It had become a private joke between the two of us. Jessica had only called us when she needed something, be it a bottle of nail polish she believes she had left under the bed, or us to attend the yoga camp she was arranging. She would never call to just ask how we were. It had always been accompanied by some odd request or other.

"Her boyfriend is throwing a party and she wanted us to come."

"Her boyfriend? Which one is it this week? And does she realize she lives in Los Angeles and that we're in Seattle?"

"I'm not sure she remembers. That answers both your questions, actually."

"Well, I hope you didn't raise her hopes up."

"Nope. I told her we had plans. She was happy to hear you were going out for a change."

I groaned. Jessica had this special gift to make me feel exceptionally pathetic. More so than I normally had, that is. "That's sweet of her," I said, and we both rolled our eyes. Then I smiled at her. "I'm really looking forward for Saturday."

Only after saying that, I realized how painfully true this statement was.

xoxox

Friday was stretching unnecessarily. From the moment I walked into the office, I wanted to leave. Mrs. Newton was exceptionally anxious since Mike had an important exam today. I had to spend half the morning in her office while she lectured me about how hard her son was studying, and the way he had to struggle to keep his grades up. Somehow I stopped myself from pointing out that some, if not most, students had to struggle for much more, like paying rent and tuition, and somehow have money to buy food at the same time. She kept me there well passed lunchtime, and as soon as she got a phone call, I made my escape. Her secretary flashed a sympathetic grin at me as I hurried passed her.

The day got downhill from there, since then I had to work twice as fast to catch up on everything I'd missed while attending to my boss. At about three, when I was just about ready to rip my hair out, there was a rap on my door, and in came the subject of Mrs. Newton's concerns himself.

"Hi there, beautiful," said Mike, leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe. I dropped him a noncommittal nod and hunched back on the manuscript I'd been working on. "You're not busy, are you?"

"As a matter of fact, I am," I spattered without giving him further attention. I couldn't afford spending time on niceties. Besides, it was time I'd be a bit more assertive with him. I balanced three colorful pens between two fingers; pink, orange and purple, my signature colors. It was a method I had developed during my time at Rainbow. Each color had its own function, its own meaning. Angela teased me by saying going over my work was like trying to read a secret map. As long as _I_ understood what it meant, I told her, it was all good.

"You haven't touched your lunch."

I shrieked and looked up, heart pounding. I lost my grip on the pens, and they rolled noisily across the desk. One of them, the purple I thought, dropped on the floor with a thud. I didn't realize Mike hadn't left; I didn't realize he had walked in, but there he was, towering in front of my desk, and eyeing my tuna sandwich with dismay. I scowled at him. It was some hidden talent in this family to kill off my focus. And over _nothing_. "I wasn't hungry."

"Working on an empty stomach is wrong. It has to be corrected."

I tried to stay composed, to keep the glare off my expression. "I'll eat when I'm finished."

"Or I'll just take you to dinner," he offered in that supposedly casual yet scheming tone I had come to know so well. "How about it, Bella? There's this new Mexican place right around the corner from here."

"I can't. I have to get to a Pilates lesson."

He seemed puzzled. "I thought those were on Tuesdays and Thursdays."

I cursed his excellent memory, and then was creeped out by the concept of him memorizing my after work schedule.

"Our instructor changed the schedule this week."

"Oh. Well, some other time."

The smile I returned to him was shaky. I hated the promise his tone carried; I hated my inability to reject it even more.

"What are you doing this weekend?"

"I'm attending a charity gala the hospital organizes."

"How nice. Are you… bringing anyone along?"

"I'm a guest of my roommate's," I told him very slowly, as slowly as you would explain to a child. "I'm not supposed to bring a date."

"If you change your mind, there's always a tux at the ready in my closet, for just these occasions."

"I'll think about it," I muttered, wishing I could just kick him out of my office. If I didn't care about keeping my job, I would have.

"I should get going. Mother is expecting me. She's always so anxious when I write an exam."

"You'd better go tell her how it went, then," I agreed, and hoped he didn't fail the exam so I wouldn't have to endure Mrs. Newton's lamentations about that.

xoxox

That day, before I headed home, I did what I'd been avoiding all week, and lingered next to my window. It had been nearly a week, enough time for what happened to sink in. And whereas that initial shock of realization subsided, sadness remained, overwhelming in its intensity. I couldn't lie to myself. I was disappointed it didn't work out. I was upset to find out the way I had, and then again, it's better that I had so early on, and not much later, if it ever got beyond wordless conversations behind windows. I set my eyes on the blinds, which were shut, telling myself I was stronger than this desire to pull them open.

_I miss you_.

I regretted the words as soon as I thought them, as if he could somehow hear them, but it was too late to take them back. And it was true. I had missed him. But it was better this way.

And then, after promising myself that this was the last time until Monday I would think of him, I slowly left my office.

xoxox

The hotel seemed to be shimmering; its lights were gleaming like gems in the bustling street. Angela and I stared wide eyed at the smartly-dressed people who stepped out of taxies along the street by the main entrance. Angela fit right in with her gown, and her hair pulled back so elegantly; I began to feel a little underdressed. The length of my dress, or the lack of it for that matter, began to seem somewhat inappropriate. But then three women walked passed us, and their dresses were even shorter than mine, outrageously so. Slightly more reassured, I hurried after Angela, who was following the women's lead into the hotel.

I'd never been to a charity gala before, so I wasn't sure what I should expect. The ballroom took my breath away. About two dozen round tables encircle an empty space which I assumed would eventually be the dance floor. A stage was situated at the far end of the room. All those different perfumes, mixing into one another, made my head spin. My ears were filled with the sound of babbling laughter, clanging glasses and jingling of bracelets. My eyes flew around the room, taking it all in.

To my right, Angela was chatting to one of her colleagues. She introduced me to some of them, before we were directed to our seats. Halfway there, though, someone called her name. As we both turned, I came face to face with the handsomest man I'd seen.

"Miss Weber. Right on time, as usual."

Angela smiled bashfully; I noticed that her cheeks turned slightly pink. "Good evening, Dr. Cullen."

I couldn't do much but stare at him. _That_ was Dr. Cullen? Oh, my.

"This is, umm, my roommate, Bella Swan."

I snapped out of it when I realized my name had been spoken, and that her boss was now watching me. It was my turn to blush. "Nice to meet you, Sir."

His handshake was firm, confident. I couldn't take my eyes off his. They had the color of sapphire, clear and hypnotic. He radiated so much power. I felt this sudden weakness in my knees.

"Carlisle Cullen." His brow furrowed as he slowly let go of my hand; it made him look ridiculously more handsome. "Swan, you said? There was someone in my high school with that name, a few years below me. We were at the chess club together, which is why I remember. A brilliant guy, Charlie was. I keep telling myself to give him a call, but then I forget."

No. Friggin'. Way. "My dad's name is Charlie."

"Is it, really?" Now he looked bemused. "The one I know is now the chief policeman of the city we lived in."

"That's Dad, alright."

"_Now_ I see it," he said, looking straight at me with that same intense gaze. My laugh died at once. There was a whimper halfway up my throat; I struggled to push it back. "You look exactly like him when you smile."

I flushed to the roots of my hair. If I could, I'd stomp on Angela's foot and then squeal aloud.

"Darling," he said then; it took me a moment to realize it wasn't me he was addressing. A woman was making her way towards us. She looked as if she'd been ripped out of an old movie, all honey-colored ringlets and creamy, flawless skin. She was wrapped in an amber gown that looked as if it had been designed especially for her. Gently placing his hand on the crook of her elbow, he introduced her to us as his wife Esme, and told her who we were. The fact he had known my dad got him all excited. Angela couldn't stop fidgeting when eventually we excused ourselves and walked over to our seats.

"Oh, my _God_," she hissed into my ear. "That was, like, the longest conversation I've ever had with him! I can't believe your dad knows him!"

"_Knew_, Ang, they went to high school together."

"Does _that_ look like someone you forget all about once high school is over?" she asked. Our gazes locked on him again. The answer was there in our dreamy, wistful sighs.

"His wife is lovely though," I offered, as if that would make us feel less pathetic for lusting after someone old enough to be our father.

"Really is. I heard his sons were supposed to be here tonight," Angela said, and her eyes scanned the room for a moment. Dr. Cullen was surrounded by people, none of which looked young enough to be his sons. "I guess they're not here yet."

"Ah, well," I said, refusing the champagne flute a passing waiter offered me. "I predict you'll see much of me during work in the next couple of weeks. I'll have to think of ways to get myself to the ER."

"Forget the ER, we're driving to Forks next weekend to have a look at your dad's yearbooks!"

Our giggles didn't last long. Someone spoke into the microphone, and a moment later Dr. Cullen was onstage, and the evening began.

I hadn't expected to enjoy myself so much, but I did. Angela and I even bent our strict no dancing policy when some of her colleagues dragged us to the dance floor. We were mostly fooling around with them, since neither of us knew anyone else. At some point Angela deserted me and went outside, looking for a quiet corner so she could call Ben. I wandered around the guests, smiling politely to those who smiled at me. I caught Dr. Cullen's eye once or twice, and the intimacy in his smile was flattering yet awkward at the same time. I couldn't understand how Angela was standing that on a daily basis.

"Excuse me."

I turned, my mind still a haze as a result of Dr. Cullen's dazzling smile. It didn't last much longer, just as long as it took me to meet the eyes of the person behind me.

I should have known that my promise wouldn't hold.

* * *

**dun dun dun! A picture of Bella's blue dress is now available on my profile, so head over there if you want to have a look. Thanks for following, stay tuned for the next update x**


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Recognition was sharp and instant. The blood drained from my face about the same time my eyes widened at the sight of him, closer than ever before. My goofy smile vanished without a trace. The weakness in my knees was different than the one I had experienced earlier, when Dr. Cullen first smiled at me. I wasn't sure if I made any sound, or if I just stood there muted and staring at him. All I know was that time simply stopped, just the same way it had before, on that first day I noticed him through my office window.

"You," I murmured, all dazed. He had the most gorgeous eyes I'd ever seen. I'd never met anyone with green eyes before. Their shade was mesmerizing. His dress shirt was dark grey, and the color his eyes stood out even more. They were gleaming now, lighting up like the rest of his face.

"I thought I recognized you," he told me, and I realized it was the first time I heard his voice. It was pleasant, musical almost. All I could manage was a nod. His lips curled in a coy smile. "I can't tell you how many times I've wished for a chance to do that." Before I knew it, his hand was outstretched in front of me. "Hi. I'm Edward Cullen."

I didn't remember moving, but suddenly the warmth of his hand shook me out of my trance. Somehow it was wrapped around my own hand. "Bella Swan," I mumbled, blushing.

"Bella," he echoed in that velvet voice of his. My name rolled on his tongue, low and unfamiliar, as he slowly released my hand. His smile widened an inch. "Perfect."

We just stood there, staring at one another. There was something in the air, something electrifying. I was afraid to shift, knowing it could be broken – and would be – by the tiniest movement. Everything was lost when he smiled at me that way. I could barely remember my own name, or why his last name, Cullen, sounded so familiar. I could hardly remember I was supposed to be furious with him.

Oh, wait. I _was_ furious with him.

He chuckled; the sound sent my out of my stupor. "This is strange."

He ran a hand through his hair. It was reddish brown, bronze almost, as unique as his eyes. I noticed he didn't have a wedding band on, but the truth was in the open either way. Hadn't I seen his wife and kids with my own eyes? Most men didn't like wearing wedding bands anyway. Alice had just told me a few days ago about the huge argument she and Jasper had gone into because he had made the mistake of telling her he wouldn't wear his wedding band after the service.

"After all the time I hoped for a chance to be able to talk to you, now I have absolutely nothing to say."

Well, I had tons; I didn't know where to begin. Maybe by demanding why he'd been leading me on, even now, denouncing him for doing so, yelling at him that a guy like him should know better.

It was all gone when I made the mistake of meeting his eyes again.

He leaned a little forward. I inhaled sharply, in shock. He smelled _amazing_. I didn't recognize the cologne; I was sure it was rare, and probably expensive. "What do you say we step outside for a bit? It's too loud and crowded in here."

He murmured all that right into my ear in that husky, melodious voice of his. I hoped he didn't notice me shiver. But then the meaning of his words sank in. An image materialized in front of my eyes: slim, blonde, flawless, and something else occurred to me. What if the reason he wanted us to go outside wasn't as innocence as he'd presented it? What if _she_ was here, and his only intention was hiding from her?

Of course. The invitations were a plus one. Of course she would be here.

Mustering more willpower than I knew I owned, I took one step backwards, putting more distance between us. "I'm sorry, but no."

He blinked, as if it wasn't the answer he had expected to hear. I doubted many people had refused him anything. He looked like one of those guys who had always got their way. "No?"

"No, I don't want to step outside for a bit." I stopped myself from rolling my eyes when I echoed his words, which now sounded awfully corny. "I don't have secrets from anyone."

I tried not to think of how ridiculously cute he looked while puzzled. I mentally shook myself when the thought involuntarily invaded my mind. _Focus_!

"Okay," he said slowly, looking at me as if he hoped he had misheard me. "Well, can I get you a drink maybe?"

I chuckled humorlessly. "Oh, trying to get me drunk; how convenient."

"What? I'm not trying to…" His voice trailed off, half with horror, half with uncertainty. Then he blinked and gave me a closer look. A desperate sigh escaped him, as if he couldn't find anything wrong. "I… I'm sorry, I… have I done something to you? Offended you in any way?"

"Why would you think that?"

My sarcasm was lost on him, as it appeared. "I don't know. I just… you looked so interested before, and now you're, well, a bit aggressive." He ran his hand through his hair again; it looked like a motion of discomfort. "Whatever I did, I'm sorry."

It got me laughing. He looked offended; I didn't apologize. I couldn't help it. "I bet it works every time, doesn't it?"

"W-what does?"

"This expression on your face. You look like a lost puppy."

"I… guess that's supposed to be a bad thing?"

"Tell me one thing," I blurted out, realizing a second too late I hadn't answered his question. "Did you really think I wouldn't find out? Because I would have done, sooner or later, you know."

"What are you talking about? Find _what_ out?"

"Look, just quit the act, okay? I know."

"You know?" he echoed, confused.

"I saw you with your wife and kids last weekend."

"You saw me with my – _what_?"

How dense was he? Hadn't Angela said _Medicine Today_ hired only the best people?

This time I was completely aware of him reaching for my hand. For a second, my heart went completely still as our skins made contact. When my heartbeat resumed, it was erratic. "Bella, I think you have misunderstood something."

"I believe the misunderstanding is yours, Mr. Cullen," I cut him off icily, and pulled my hand away with more force than necessary. "I don't like being a rebounder."

He stared at me completely dumbfounded for a moment. Then, very slowly, realization began to appear in his eyes. "Is that why you kept your window close all week?"

It surprised me that he was keeping track that way, as if my absence touched something in him. But telling myself I was passed the stage of falling for false flatteries, I met his baffled stare with a threatening glare.

"Let me explain, at least?"

"I heard enough," I said, and turned to go.

He spoke my name again, pleading with me to wait. His fingers were suddenly around my left wrist, holding it in place. The sensation was like an electric current passing through me. It lasted only a second before other emotions surfaced. I whirled around to face him, suddenly fuming.

The slap was instinctive. I didn't even realize I'd done it until I heard the sound of it, somehow louder than the music in the background. From the corner of my eyes I saw people turn their heads to look at us. I stayed there just enough to see his expression shift from shock to hurt. Then I turned my back on him and began to walk away, hoping I wouldn't stumble and crash on the floor. My hand was still burning as I crossed the room, trying to ignore everyone's stares. I just wanted to get out of there. I'd never hit anyone in my life. I still wasn't sure what drove me to do it now, how much fury, or pain, was bottled in.

Somehow through the sound of blood pounding in my head, I heard Angela calling after me. I didn't slow my pace until I was in the safety of the lobby. She caught up with me there, panting with exertion, her eyes wide with astonishment.

"What the hell – was that – have you just – "

"I'm going home." The quiver in my voice caught me off guard. I was feeling really faint all of a sudden. "I'm sorry, I can't stay here."

"Are you okay?"

"Fine, I'm just…" I let my voice trail, unsure how to continue. She nodded understandably. I figured she had witnessed at least part of what just happened. "Listen, you don't have to leave too. Lynn said she could give us a ride home; you should go with her. I'll find a cab."

I didn't wait for her reply, but had to turn back when she spoke again. "And how are you going to get home with no money or keys?"

I mentally kicked myself. My purse was still with Ashley, who had kept it for me while I'd been wandering around the room. I sighed in frustration. Great.

Angela shook her head, and flashed a small, careful smile at me as she handed me her purse. "Here, I'll bring yours back later."

"Thanks," I said, and turned away from her quickly, because all of a sudden, I felt like crying.

xoxox

By the time I got home, I was completely worn out, but as soon as I changed out of my dress and removed my makeup, I was suddenly restless. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep until Angela was back. So instead I camped in the living room with my blanket and what had left of our Ben and Jerry's chocolate fudge ice cream, staring at an old musical I once saw with my mom. At some point I guess the dancers' movements lulled me to sleep, because I jolted awake at the sound of keys jingling in the lock.

"Bella?" Angela asked as I sat up, groaning softly. She shut the door behind her and squinted into the dimly lit room. "What are you doing?"

"I couldn't sleep."

I watched her as she locked up and kicked her shoes off. I scooted a little as she came to sit next to me. She didn't say anything, just stared at the screen. There was a black and white movie playing now, but I didn't recognize which one it was. Angela still wasn't looking at me, and I knew she was waiting for me to speak first, probably apologize as I should have done. There were so many other things I wanted to ask her as well, but I didn't know where to begin, or how.

"What time is it?"

It wasn't on the top of my list, but it got her attention; she turned to face me. "Almost one."

I cringed inwardly at the sight of her expression, the one she always got when I'd done something I shouldn't have. It wasn't judgmental – never that. Just… the kind that told me she had expected more of me. Somehow that was worse. Whenever she looked at me like that, our age difference, normally meaningless and often overlooked, had felt more potent than ever.

She sighed, and finally spoke. "Bella, you messed up."

"I'm sorry I ditched you." Once I started, there was no stopping the rest. "It was the most unfriendly thing I could have done and totally rude of me after you invited me – usually I'm not that impulsive – well, I might be, but not when it comes to my friends, but I just couldn't… it was so humiliating."

When I met her gaze again, I pretended to see her expression softening. "I'm not mad at you. But God, you have tendency to get yourself in trouble."

There was this mischievous glint in her eyes; it was pretty clear what – _whom_ – she was referring to. "He had it coming," I snarled, narrowing my eyes.

"Possibly, but;" she could barely hide her grin now. "You did get a chance to catch his name before you attacked him, didn't you?"

"Edward – something." It escaped me now – burying itself deep enough beneath the amounts of fury. And it didn't matter because I was going to keep my promise this time. I had no intention of thinking about him ever again after tonight. After this minute.

"Edward Cullen. Rings a bell?"

It did. My eyes widened in horror. "_No_!"

"I'm afraid so," Angela nodded somberly. It was all I got to see before I buried my head in my hands.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God…"

"You slapped my boss' son."

I whimpered as soon as she said it, because speaking out the words of my shame made it all worse. I wrapped my arms tighter around my head. Then, an instant later, the consequences of my act dawned on me, and I threw my arms around her. "Oh my God, Angela, I'm so sorry – "

"It's not me you should apologize to."

"Dr. Cullen has such good opinion on you… I could see that he thought really well of you, and now… oh, God, and now he'll remember you as the friend of the psycho who attacked his – wait, _what_?"

She untangled herself from my embrace, and said again, very calmly, "It's not me you should apologize to."

"What are you talking about?" I demanded, remorse all gone.

"I'm talking about Edward Cullen, who _does_ work for _Medicine Today_, but the way – _runs_ it, actually."

"You did _not_ talk to him!" I cried, mortified.

"I didn't have a choice, he cornered me! He saw I came after you and stalked me to our table when I was going to get your purse from Ashley. And then Dr. Cullen showed up and introduced us and it was really out of my hands at that point."

I grumbled. He wasn't that different than Mike after all, just better looking.

"You really shouldn't give him such hard time, Bella; he seems like a decent guy."

"_Decent_," I snorted. "You saw exactly what I saw last week! Haven't you told me yourself that Dr. Cullen had grandkids? What more proof do you need?"

"Well, for a start, I know for a fact he came alone tonight."

"It doesn't prove anything. Did he tell you they're not his?"

"No. We didn't speak about kids at all. I didn't ask him about it; it's none of my business." It was one of many traits I had always admired in Angela. "We talked very briefly before Dr. Cullen showed up."

"Did Dr. Cullen see me – "

"I don't think so. He asked me where you've gone to – I made an excuse, I don't remember which. Edward seemed surprised to hear his dad knew who you were. And he got all quiet afterwards, as if he didn't want to say anything offensive about you next to his dad."

"How chivalrous of him," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Quit the sarcasm, Bella; Edward is a really nice guy. I think you might have been a little harsh storming out like that."

"Hmph!"

"Okay, think whatever you want about him. But he did keep this incident from his dad. And when he spoke about what happened before Dr. Cullen arrived… I don't know, he sounded really hurt."

Something within me twitched, but only for a brief second. "_I_ was really hurt too."

"Look, you know his name now. You can easily work it out. The way I see it, it's just an unfortunate misunderstanding."

"Did you pick that word from him?" I spattered, now annoyed. Angela was _my_ friend; she was supposed to be on _my_ side, not his. After speaking to him for no longer than five minutes, suddenly he wasn't the enemy anymore?

I forced myself to calm down. Angela wasn't the one to blame in all this. If anything, I was the idiot one, making her look bad in front of her boss. "Look, I'm sorry I ruined your evening. And I'm sorry if your boss now thinks you're kind of insane. I don't want to think about the rest right now, it's just too much. I'm really tired; I'm going to bed."

I turned the TV off; the silence that suddenly dominated the room was a bit eerie.

"Bella?" she called after me. I turned to face her again, my motions a little clumsy because of the blanket I was dragging along with me. She was watching me pleadingly. "I don't want you to think I'm interfering, or taking sides, but please try to be reasonable about this."

It took all I had to not narrow my eyes at her. "Meaning?"

"I don't think he lied to you," she said honestly, wincing slightly beneath my glare. "And… don't get mad, but from the little I got to know him, I think he might be right for you. Just… don't dismiss him before you're absolutely sure."

Angela, like me, wasn't very outspoken. She had avoided arguments and confrontations so long as she could help it. She wasn't a hypocrite, but it was rare for her to speak her mind. I knew that if she had now, it was important enough for her to do so. Despite of myself, I was touched she cared so much.

"Fine, I'll think about it," I said, trying hard to meet her gaze. In the darkness, I didn't think she'd notice I was lying. Then again, knowing her, she would probably know anyway.

xoxox

Angela and I hadn't spoken about the gala throughout the majority of the next day. As a matter of fact, we hardly spoke at all. Angela had a night shift on Sunday night, so she spent most of the day sleeping. I took advantage of the silence and got some more work done, because who knew what surprises my boss had in store for me on Monday. Not thinking about what happened the night before was easy when I had my work to focus on. Knowing Angela wasn't mad at me, and that Dr. Cullen hadn't witnessed the humiliating moment of me hitting his son, made it easier. Those were the two things I was most concerned about. I didn't care one bit about Edward Cullen.

Monday morning started off better than I could dream it would. To my enormous relief, my bosses weren't in. I completely forgot about the meeting they had out of town. As a result, the week started off calmly and quietly. I actually got quite a lot of work done, and managed to catch up with Alice properly during lunch. She'd done most of the talking; I wasn't in the mood to share what happened at the gala when all I really wanted was to push it to the darkest corner of my consciousness.

The day passed quickly, as calm days so often do. Since I'd done most of my work on the weekend and during the day, nothing kept me in the office after five. I promptly avoided my window when I left my office, and crossed the hallway in long, determined strides. I wondered what I should do once I got home. Angela had another night shift tonight, so I was going to spend another evening by myself. I thought I could call my parents, because it had been a few days since I did. Maybe I'd take Angela's advice and spend the next weekend in Forks. It had been a while. I could watch _The Sound of Music_ while I was over there. Suddenly I desperately needed a reminder that old-school romance still existed.

"Bella."

Responding to the sound of my name being called was instinctive. The surprise I initially felt quickly turned its place to dread, though, because when I turned, it was Edward Cullen who was coming towards me.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

I stood there perplexed, rooted to place. The one person I had struggled to keep out of my mind, the one person I had no desire to encounter ever again, was exactly who was coming towards me now. I wanted to escape and hide someplace, but I was cornered, sandwiched between him and my building. He would know where to find me if I fled back inside. And then I was stuck altogether because he was suddenly right in front of me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked without much interest, about to walk passed him.

"I've been waiting for you."

His answer, especially the sincerity in which he had uttered it, made me halt. I spun and eyed him suspiciously. "Why?"

"I want to talk to you."

"Well, too bad, because I don't want to talk to _you_," I replied, and resumed my walk. It didn't surprise me when he fell into step beside me almost instantly. I scoffed. "Did Angela tell you when I was off?"

"She didn't need to. I can _see_ when you leave your office."

I threw a sideway glance at him. He looked smug at his own reply. I sighed and continued to ignore him. I picked up my pace a little, hoping it would eventually deter him.

"It's probably best to tell you we've just walked passed your bus stop."

I stopped again, looked around, and realized he was right. "Damn it," I muttered, and meant to turn back. He shifted before I managed half a step, and blocked my path.

"Please listen to me."

"It's really impossible for you to take 'no' for an answer, isn't it?"

"Have coffee with me and let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain."

"Yes, there is, because you got it all wrong."

"Funny. I don't think I did."

"This is nothing but a misunderstanding, just let me – "

"Does your wife know about this? What excuse have you given her? Is she home waiting for you and wondering why you're so late for dinner? How can you do this to her – how can you do this to your kids? How can you look them in the eye every single day and know you all live a lie?"

"Stop. Please."

"Why? Because it's too painful to hear the truth?"

"Because you're so far _off_ the truth it's laughable!"

"You know what, I couldn't care less. I don't want to hear anymore. Why don't you just move out of my way and we'll pretend none of it has ever happ – "

"Lindsay and Josh are not my kids."

Our quick exchange ended there, just like that. The air whooshed out of me; it felt as if someone had pulled the floor beneath my feet. "W-what?"

"They're not mine. Rosalie is not my wife. I'm not even married. Like I've been trying to tell you… about a dozen times now;" he stopped to flash an impish grin at me, "You got it all wrong."

I couldn't do much but gawk at him, as the meaning of his words slowly sank in. A misunderstanding. He'd been trying to tell me that all along. And me, being so damn impulsive as I'd always had… I didn't listen – I _slapped_ him – oh, God.

"I'm such an idiot," I moaned, turning away from him. I couldn't face him; it was too humiliating, from a whole different reason now. I was so embarrassed.

"So now when we got _that_ out of our way, how about that coffee?"

It shocked me how calm his voice sounded, as if he wasn't even mad. I would have been furious, had the tables been turned. Actually, that was what brought up this unnecessary embarrassment in the first place.

Realizing he was still awaiting some sort of reply, I looked up and was instantly thrown off by his eyes. I forgot how astounding their color had been. They were leering at me, with wordless invitation that still lingered in his stare. But I couldn't think about it. The slap was replaying itself in front of my eyes, over and over, impossible to shake off.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, peeking up at him. My face felt all hot. "I was out of line. I was angry, I… I was making assumptions. I should have known you wouldn't… I mean…"

He placed a finger on my lips. Not expecting it, I gasped loudly. He instantly removed his finger, as if the sound startled him. "No harm done."

"I slapped you in a roomful of people – your _colleagues_," I protested, now horrified with myself. Angela was right, had been right all along; storming out was harsh.

"In a week or two, no one will remember it."

But _I_ would. I lowered my gaze.

In just a few steps, he was standing right in front of me. I had to look up. His smile was real, and definitely not vengeful. He extended his hand, like he'd done two nights ago. "We can just start over."

I took his hand shyly, struck once again by how warm it felt. In seconds he returned to be just the cute guy who smiled at me through the window a bit over a week ago. And I was back to where I'd started, wanting nothing more than a chance to talk to him and know him a little better. I half-expected him to tell me his name again, but he didn't. He just kept our hands and eyes locked for a moment, before he slowly let my hand go. By that time, my mind was a little more composed.

"Alright," I nodded. "I'll have coffee with you. But I'm buying." He opened his mouth to protest, but I shook my head vigorously. "It's the least I can do to make it up to you. Please?"

He didn't say anything, but after a moment he lay his hand on the small of my back, steering me forward. It was nothing but his fingertips brushing against the thin material of my top, but the touch left my skin prickling where his fingers had been.

He led the way to a small café a short distance away, right off a crowded Starbucks. We didn't speak much on the way there, except for brief answers to random questions one of us asked. I hadn't entirely grasped what was going on yet. It was all happening way too fast. I was surprised that this fact didn't bother me.

"Go find us a table," I told him as soon as we walked in. His expression turned hesitant; for a moment I was sure he was going to protest again, and shook my head. "None of that. You promised."

A shadow of a smile betrayed his sealed expression. "I did no such thing." I gave him a look. He held my gaze for a second, and laughed. "Okay. You win. I'll have whatever you're having. I'll be at the back."

I ordered two lattes, and added one cinnamon pastry as an afterthought. This café was known for having its own bakery. The pastries were on display on the counter, looking delicious and irresistible with their sugar powder and honeyed icing. But when I made my way to the table, it suddenly dawned on me there was a chance Edward didn't like cinnamon pastries. I nearly doubled back, scolding myself for not thinking about it sooner, or choosing something more neutral. But there was a long line forming by the cashier, so I had no choice. I spotted him at the very back, and headed over to the table he'd chosen.

"Thanks," he smiled at me when I handed him his coffee.

"I got cinnamon," I said, with slightly less confidence now, and placed the pastry in the middle of the small table. "I can get something else if you – "

"No, don't. The cinnamon ones are my favorites."

"Mine too." We shared a tiny smile. Our fingers brushed against one another's as we both reached for the pastry at the same time. My nervous laugh echoed his own. It broke the ice a little. I withdrew my hand, and watched him tear the thing into two pieces. He handed me one of them. "Thanks," I whispered, licking the sugar powder off my fingers. "I really am sorry about Saturday. And for keeping my window shut last week."

"For that, you _should_ apologize," he nodded somberly. "It's been a long, boring week."

But I didn't want to dwell on it just now. Already it sounded like too intense a conversation; I desperately needed to steer it into a more casual direction. Work. Yes, work was a safe topic. I could ask him about that journal Angela seemed so interested in. I remembered her saying something about it on Saturday night, but her exact words escaped me now. "So, you work for _Medicine Today_," I half said, half asked, adding sugar into my coffee.

He let out a dark chuckle. "I _am_ _Medicine Today_."

My hand froze mid-stir. I looked up at him wide-eyed.

"My family owns the journal, for several decades now. My brother and I have recently taken running it onto ourselves to take pressure off Dad's back." Before I had a chance to process all this, he spoke again. "What do you do in Rainbow Books?"

I nearly choked on my coffee. "How do you know I work for Rainbow Books?"

He actually _blushed_. I couldn't believe my eyes. "Don't be mad. I told my brother about you, and he, umm, he's much more adventurous than I am. It was late and I knew you weren't in, so I… I mean, he… he _made_ me go over to your building and check what company was listed on your floor."

He looked mortified by this confession. In fact, he looked exactly how I had looked when Angela had forced me into doing the same thing. I thought it was one detail I could leave out of this conversation. "Technically, I'm an editor," I replied. I could see how relieved he'd suddenly become, as if he had expected me to make a fuss about the issue of him stalking me. "But these days I just do anything my boss feels like giving me."

"I love watching you work." He smiled sheepishly. "You're always so… absorbed. Like you really enjoy what you do."

"I do, most of the time." I sipped my coffee again. "How come I haven't seen you in that office before?"

"My original office is down the hall from there. They're doing renovations in the part of the building, so I'll be spending the next few months in that other office."

"Does your original office have a more interesting view?"

He flashed a crooked grin at me, the most adorable I'd ever seen. "I used to think so, until I looked through my window a couple of weeks ago and saw something I liked."

I didn't have the safety of the blinds in my office to hide my blush from his eyes, or shield me from the intensity of his gaze. He was good, I had to admit as much. But in spite of his previous assurance, and the obvious direction this conversation was quickly taking despite my efforts to divert it, I didn't feel comfortable taking it any further, not until I knew everything.

"Are you going to tell me who those kids were?"

I regretted the question as soon as I asked it, first because it made him blink and break whatever was in the air between us again, and second because it was none of my business. He shifted in his seat, but not with discomfort. "They're my brother's. I'm watching them for him a lot."

"Oh," I said dumbly, realizing I'd been waiting for something much more dramatic than that. His reply was somewhat anticlimactic. From some reason, it had never occurred to me they would be his brother's.

"Just so I… I mean I've been wondering… when was it you've seen us together?"

"Last weekend. I passed through my office to get something and you were just outside. You bought them hotdogs." I smiled at the memory; it made me sad now, from some reason. But then something else came in the way, and I frowned. "There was a blonde woman with you, too."

"Rosalie," he nodded, unflinching.

I vaguely remembered him mentioning the name earlier on the sidewalk. "Their mother?"

I was taken aback by how guarded his expression became all of a sudden. "Umm, no. My brother's girlfriend. He had to finish something up in the office so we all waited downstairs for him." I was still trying to put the pieces of that statement together when he continued, his expression shifting from guarded to somber. "It isn't easy for Emmett to raise them by himself. My parents and I try to help where we can."

There could be various reasons as for why his brother would raise his children alone. Edward had specifically referred to Rosalie as his brother's girlfriend, not the mother of his children, so I knew it meant Emmett's wife, the kids' mother, was no longer in the picture, from whatever reason. I eliminated divorce, because from what I'd known in that matter (which was quite a lot, considering my parents had lived separately since I was a baby), mothers usually had custody over children, unless it was something really unusual. And Edward looked so upset while speaking about his brother tending the kids alone; only one option seemed plausible. "Did she… die?"

As before, I regretted the words as soon as I uttered them. They made Edward laugh though. "No, she didn't die." Then his smile slowly faded. Our eyes met; he looked the saddest I'd ever seen him. "She left him almost three years ago. It was a huge blow for everyone, Emmett especially. I honestly thought he would never get over it, but he had. And he has Rosalie now, so we're all pretty optimistic."

I felt awful. In less than ten minutes I'd managed to ask him far too many personal questions. After everything that happened on Saturday, it more than surprised me he was still sitting there with me. If I were him, I'd run off screaming way sooner than that. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"That's okay. I feel comfortable enough with you to tell you all this." His gaze fell on his wrist watch, and then he lifted his eyes to mine. "I'm not… keeping you or anything, am I?"

"No. Angela has a night shift today. She's probably still asleep, and I didn't make plans for this evening." Honestly, I'd sit here all night with him if he asked me to.

"Do you want to go to dinner someplace, maybe? Not right now, but… well, this was a really tiny pastry and I _will_ get hungry soon."

I laughed. Like I had already suspected, it was impossible to say no to him.

xoxox

We stayed at the café an hour longer, until it got dark. Then we walked back to the building where his office was to get his car. I didn't go to the underground parking lot with him. I needed to call Angela anyway, and I didn't want to do it next to him. Regardless of the fact that what I had to say to her had mostly involved him, I had this stupid thing about privacy when it came to making calls on my cell phone. I'd never made them on the bus, for instance. I didn't like other people eavesdropping on my calls, especially random strangers.

"Sure, have fun," Angela said when I told her I'd probably miss her because I was going to dinner. "Who are you going with? Alice?"

"Umm, no," I replied. The warmth in my cheeks was familiar now. I was relieved she wasn't right there next to me. "Try not to freak out, okay?"

"Why?" she asked slowly, but I could already detect that hint of a smile in her voice. "Bel – "

"I'm kind of on a date with Edward Cullen."

"_What_? How did _that_ happen?"

"I ran into him when I left work, and – "

"Did you apologize?"

"Umm, yes, sort of, but he did first."

"What did _he_ have to apologize for? You're not making any sense!"

A shiny Volvo came to a stop right in front of me. I was too preoccupied by focusing on Angela's words than be amazed by his car. He smiled at me from behind the wheel, and reached over to open the door for me.

"This is a really long story and I can't do this right now. I just wanted to let you know in case I miss you later. I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"Oh, you bet your ass you will. I can't believe you're going to keep me hanging!"

"Don't kill anyone, Angela," I laughed, plunging into our usual banter.

"I'll do my best. Don't you slap him again."

"I don't think I will," I retorted sweetly, and hung up on her. Let her make out what she wanted from _that_.

xoxox

We drove to a tiny Italian restaurant I only knew by name. For a second I feared it would be posh and fancy, but it was the complete opposite. Edward told me his parents found this place when they had first settled in Seattle, and that they had frequented it ever since. He got us a booth in the back, and I couldn't help noticing the discreetly sly look the waiter had flashed him as his eyes wandered briefly to me. I wondered how many girls he had brought there before, but decided against asking it. Not only that I'd reached my quota of personal questions for one day; I simply decided I was better off not knowing.

I had never been very chatty, but tonight, I found myself answering all his questions, even the silliest, most trivial ones. He asked if I'd always lived in Seattle. I explained how I had initially moved here four years ago to enroll into the master program in the English department of Seattle University, and eventually stayed because I liked it here. He was surprised to hear our dads had known each other, and wanted to hear all about that. It led to the story of my parents' divorce, living with my mother in Phoenix, and some random tales about her various quirks. He told me about his own parents and brother, and a bit about his niece and nephew.

Mostly, though, I wanted him to tell me about himself. Finally having the chance to learn more about him, I wanted to see if what he'd say would match the version I'd come up with. In most cases, it didn't. He graduated from med school with honors just a few months ago, but chose not to practice. He was too awful at the practical part of it, he admitted. So instead he decided to pursue his other passion – journalism. He was still taking classes, but Dr. Cullen suggested he'd help Emmett, Edward's older brother, run _Medicine Today_. Emmett, who had to balance between his children and the journal, needed all the help his younger brother could offer, no matter how inexperience he had still been. He didn't actually say it, but so far he seemed to be doing well. It was obvious this fact surprised him.

It amazed me how many things we had in common. We had similar taste in movies and music. His knowledge in music was insane; I felt incredibly ignorant in comparison. He was an avid reader, like me, and had an obsession with classics, like I did. He wanted to publish something of his own one day, but he didn't think it was going to happen in the near future. We were both fascinated by history, especially anything that had to do with the Holocaust, even though neither of us had Jewish roots. Like he had already pointed out, he wasn't adventurous, and neither was I.

When our check arrived, I insisted on paying again, but he jokingly slapped my hand away when I tried to snatch the bill from the table. Too soon, we were back in his car, and I was giving him directions to my place. We spent the drive in silence, but not an awkward one. There was this inevitable sense of finality in the air. It was almost unbelievable that we started this evening arguing on the sidewalk.

When we arrived, he opened the car door for me and walked me to the building despite my protest. I looked up at him, reluctant to say goodnight. His eyes looked gold in the dim streetlight; like in my dream, I suddenly realized.

"I had a really great time," I told him, grateful for the darkness. "Thanks for… stalking me by my office."

He laughed softly. "Thanks for not slapping me again." His smile slowly dimmed, giving in for something else entirely. "It's nice, to finally be able to talk to you. I honestly wasn't sure I'd have a chance to, after Saturday."

"I was so mean to you." It felt nothing I'd ever say could make up for that.

He chuckled. "You scared the hell out of me. It was the first time I was trying to talk to someone since…" His voice trailed off. I waited for more, but nothing was coming. He looked hesitant, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to say more. Then he sighed. "When Tanya left Emmett, I took it pretty bad myself. They've been together since high school; we honestly thought they were one of those couples who'd last forever.

"After all this time, after having two kids together, she just left, ran off with this random guy. It makes you lose trust in people. I try… but I keep thinking whomever I date will do to me the same thing Tanya has done to Emmett. It's ridiculous, but you can't help thinking that at some point. And it's impossible to maintain a relationship this way, so I just… avoid them.

"And then I saw you." A tiny smile broke the graveness of his expression. "You waved at me through that window, and for the first time in I don't know how long, I thought it might be the beginning of something. Something good."

A gasp escaped me, because his words were echoing my thoughts from earlier in the week. A voice in the back of my mind told me there was more to it, but I couldn't put my finger on it just now. I was distracted by other images, most of them his at the gala on Saturday. I remembered all too clearly the confusion in his eyes, that flustered expression, his stammered apologies as if he had hurt me and not the other way around. After an amazing week of sweet smiles and shy glances, I did exactly the thing he had feared of. I betrayed the trust he'd come to have in whatever the hell there was between us, just like that woman had done to his brother.

If I had felt guilty before about the way I treated him on Saturday, penitence was twice as bad now. "I'm sorrier than you know," I whispered. I could barely look at him.

"Please don't apologize anymore. I understand where your anger has come from. It's just… I wasn't expecting it that evening. I was so happy to see you. I mean, what were the odds? I thought it would be seamless."

It could have been, if I weren't acting like a bitch.

"It doesn't matter. You're here now, aren't you?"

Our gazes locked again, and for one crazy moment I was sure he was going to kiss me. If I was being honest, there was nothing I wanted more than that.

He reached for my hand instead, and brought it to his lips. They felt soft and warm, fluttering against my skin. "Good night, Bella," he murmured, slowly letting go of my hand.

About a floor up the stairs I remembered he didn't ask me out again, or asked me for any number he could reach me at. It didn't matter. I'd see him tomorrow, I thought. My feet hardly touched the ground.

And on my way upstairs, I found myself humming a verse from _The Sound of Music_, one that suddenly felt like the missing piece of what he had just told me.

_For here you are, standing there, loving me_

_Whether or not you should_

_So somewhere in my youth or childhood_

_I must have done something good_.


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: taking a moment to thank you all for commenting and adding the story to your favorites/alerts – your support means a lot, so please keep it up! Here's another one, and my profile already has a photo of another outfit I mention along the way in this chapter. Happy reading!**

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Chapter Seven

When I woke up the next morning, everything still felt like an incredible dream. It was like stepping out of a movie theatre after watching a really good movie, where you still wanted to hold on to that fantasy world you'd been forced out of. I still wasn't sure at which point of the previous night I had blacked out. At some point I was certain I would never be able to fall asleep. It was all too fresh in my mind: his voice, his smile, that hint of a kiss still ghosting against the back of my hand. Everything resurfaced now, and I could feel that goofy grin find its way to my lips again. I curled on my side and snuggled into the covers. If none of yesterday had happened, I didn't want to wake up to a day he wasn't in.

Ugh, you're so pathetic, I scolded myself. One moment you attack him in front of his parents and colleagues, call him names and yell profanities in his face, and after spending one single evening with him, you're acting all gooey like a sixteen year old with a crush. Like Liesl, or worse – some princess out of a Disney movie.

But as humiliating as it was to admit it, it was probably true. Despite the short time we had actually known each other, window interaction aside, I had already fallen for him, hard. I sighed dreamily, allowing myself one more gooey moment. I couldn't wait to see him again.

"Well, I'm glad you're finally up."

I shrieked, and jolted up. Angela was sitting on the end of my bed, still in her uniform, with no hint of tiredness on her face. Once the shock subsided, I glared at her. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I was waiting for you to wake up." There was the slightest accusation in her voice, and I could see she hadn't forgotten our rather enigmatic phone call the other evening. "But I see I don't have to ask you anything," she added, and a teasing smile broke on her lips. "I told you, didn't I? I told you he'd be good for you."

"Ah, shut up," I muttered, looking away from her as if it would hide my sudden blush. "It was only one date."

"Well, you clearly haven't seen your face this morning yet." She chuckled when I rolled my eyes. "Is there going to be another?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Has he kissed you?"

"The back of my hand." I felt stupid to say it, but it felt safe with Angela. Jessica, even Alice, would have roared, then make fun of me for weeks for thinking it was sweet of him. Angela and I had similar mindset, so I knew she would never do that. My fingers trailed a circle where his lips touched. If Angela had noticed, she didn't say anything about it.

"So what was the story with the kids?"

"They're his niece and nephew. He spends a lot of time with them." It seemed more fair to present it this way. It wasn't my story to tell. And Angela, being Angela, didn't ask any more questions.

All the way to work, it felt as if I was floating on air. Even the bus ride there had this fleeting feeling to it, as if I was experiencing it from outside my body. I couldn't even focus on the music I was listening to – the lyrics went right through me. I just stared emptily out of the window, wishing to be there already. Whatever happened today, I wasn't going to let it be less than perfect.

My blissful bubble had been burst violently as soon as I walked into the office. I had never seen Mr. Newton more pissed off. He was so red in the face that I feared he was going to have a heart attack right there and then. Some competing publishing house had just finalized a contract with one of our regular authors for a young adults novel, one which Mr. Newton had been unaware of until he read about it in the business section of his paper. It set him in a foul mood from the moment he set foot in the office. I kept my distance from his office, where random sounds of yelling disrupted the silence from time to time. I cringed whenever he raised his voice. He wasn't one to yell; it didn't sit well with the grandfatherly image I had of him.

Edward wasn't at work yet. I tried not to glance too many times in that direction, knowing it wouldn't do me any good, and especially not today. Mrs. Newton was absent today, something about her migraines, and combined with her husband's wrath, I thought I could use the time to actually do some work. I got my colorful pens ready and chose a manuscript from the top of my pile. It was two and a half hours later when I realized I got the entire thing done with no interruptions, and without looking up once. Good for you, Bella, I gave myself a mental tap on the shoulder.

I'd just set the manuscript aside and stretched my hands and fingers over my head when my phone rang. I picked it up absentmindedly, already reaching for the next document in line. "Hello?"

"Have dinner with me tonight."

I spun in my chair. My eyes found him instantly, standing there watching me through his window. He smiled, and waved at me. There was a cordless phone pressed to his ear. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to realize that calling you would be the only way to win your attention."

"I'm sorry. My boss is impossible today and I'm swamped with work, which is not really new, but I couldn't – wait, how did you get my number?"

He laughed. The sound was low, getting right under my skin. I held the phone tighter. "You don't expect me to reveal _all_ my secrets, do you?"

I giggled. The sound surprised me; I couldn't remember the last time a man made me giggle. Or anyone else, for that matter. "I'd love to have dinner with you tonight – oh, damn it, hold on a second." I cursed my bad luck. With Mike I have to use my Pilates lessons as an excuse, and now, when I actually _want_ to see the guy… "I can't," I nearly growled. "Tuesday is Pilates day."

"I hate the idea of having to wait for so long anyway. How about lunch?"

"But we have to keep it short. And stay close to the building. I wouldn't mess with Mr. Newton's patience today."

"Hmm. Maybe if I get you fired, you could join our staff, and I'll get to keep you here."

"I'm quite happy with my job, thank you very much," I laughed. "Besides, you wouldn't want to risk your journal's reputation by getting me on board."

"Nah, I have a feeling you'll do just fine."

"I'm not leaving Rainbow." Second giggle in a span of ten minutes. Impressive – or pathetic. I glanced at him. He didn't leave his spot by the window.

"Is one okay?" he asked then, looking straight at me with intensity that wiped my grin away.

"One is perfect."

"Do you want me to come pick you up?"

"No. I'll meet you downstairs, okay?" Mike was due in the office in an hour. I didn't want to risk them bumping into each other. The mental images of Mike challenging Edward into a duel were just too disturbing. I had a feeling that if that ever happened, I just might start worrying about the possibility of getting myself a position on _Medicine Today_ after all.

xoxox

At five minutes to one I sneaked out of my office with skill that would put commando soldiers to shame. I waited for him a small distance away from my office, yet close enough so he wouldn't miss me if he stepped out. I recognized him as soon as he emerged from his building. His eyes flew over the passersby, and lit up as soon as they found mine. When he leaned over to kiss my cheek, it was as natural as if he had done it all his life.

"So is your day getting better?" he asked me as we crossed the street to a nearby deli.

"Just about," I grinned at him, hoping he would never know how true this statement was.

We chatted a little as a girl behind the counter made our sandwiches. I told him a bit about why Mr. Newton was so irritated today; he told me about a staff meeting he'd just stepped out of. The weather was nice, so we took our sandwiches to a small park right off our buildings.

"I like it here. I bring the kids over here a lot."

"You speak about them a lot."

My comment made him laugh. "Yes, I get that. Frequently. That's why you're not the only one to assume they're mine. I feel that way too sometimes."

His eyes suddenly became serious, boring into mine. I lowered my sandwich without even realizing it, entranced by his gaze again. "Listen, about that. I thought about it when I got home. I couldn't _stop_ thinking about it. I shouldn't have told you so much, and on the first time we got to actually speak to each other. I'm really sorry if it freaked you out." He chuckled humorlessly. "Emmett always teases me about my ability to scare women away. I guess I see his point now."

"If I'm not allowed to apologize, neither are you. And besides, I wouldn't be here if I was freaked out by any of what you've told me."

"Is that supposed to be encouraging?"

I found his skepticism endearing. I hoped he could read the reassurance in my grin. "Yes."

"If that's true, then why didn't you want me to pick you up from your office?"

"I keep a bunch of Venus flytraps on my windowsill."

"No, you don't," he retorted. "I can _see_ your windowsill; your entire office, for that matter. No flytraps. Try again."

I could come up with dozen other excuses, all of which would be futile, by the looks of it. I sighed. "Fine. I don't want people to know I'm seeing someone."

He could barely hide his grin. "Is that what you're doing?"

"I'm not exactly an expert, but isn't that what you call two people on their second date?" His grin widened; he shrugged. "Anyway, it's not really my colleagues I'm worried about; it's one person. He might not… respond well."

His eyebrow twitched in a tiny frown; he struggled not to let it show. "_He_?"

"My boss' son," I admitted sheepishly, peeking at him from underneath my lashes.

He seemed amused, but careful. "And what do you think about this, umm, guy?"

"Would I be here with you if it was anything positive?"

He didn't reply, as if he was considering my reply. Then after a moment, he laughed. "No, I suppose you wouldn't." He was still watching me closely. He sort of reminded me of Dr. Cullen with that intense, see-through gaze. I guess that kind of stuff runs in the family. "So, what, does he… bother you?"

"You can say that. He can't take 'no' for an answer, like somebody else I know."

"Well, in some cases, you'll find that being assertive actually pays off," he replied, and gave me such a look my cheeks began to burn.

We didn't stay much longer at the park. As much as I wanted to keep sitting there with him, I preferred to keep this lunch break short, knowing Mr. Newton would be furious with me if I were late. Edward walked me to my building, and I hoped he wouldn't bring up the issue of coming upstairs with me. The image of that duel was still fresh in my mind. I tried not to let disappointment show, but then reminded myself I'd see him soon, very soon.

At the entrance to my building, he ran a hand through his hair; his cheeks flushed ever so slightly. "Usually I'm keeping longer hours than five, but since I'm leaving work early today, I was wondering if you'd want a ride home. What's with you're working out later and all that."

It didn't seem necessary to tell him Pilates wasn't extreme sport in the slightest. I smiled. "Sure. Thanks."

"I'll give you a call at five," he said, turning to go.

"Hey, wait!" He still had that grin on when he turned. "Doesn't it seem a little unfair to you that you can call me whenever you want and I don't even have your email?"

He stopped as if my question threw him off a little, and then the smile returned to grace his face. "Yes, it _is_ a little unfair, isn't it," he murmured, more to himself than to me. He rummaged through his pocket and eventually handed me a small card. I managed a glimpse of his name on top. "Here. It has more than my email."

"Lucky me," I grinned, placing the small card in my purse. "See you at five."

Suddenly the end of the day seemed incredibly far away.

xoxox

Edward wasn't in his office all afternoon. At four, this realization left me somewhat baffled; a part of me feared he might have forgotten what we talked about before we parted. Sure enough, though, at three minutes to five, he called me and asked if I was ready to go. Like him kissing my cheek earlier today, getting into his car was instinctive, as if he'd always given me a ride home. It felt strangely familiar. He smiled at me and asked me how my day had been. It wasn't until ten minutes into the drive that I stopped for air and realized something was wrong. He hadn't said one word since we left work.

"Are you okay?" I asked a little hesitantly. I didn't want to pry, but I wasn't used to see him so quiet – now that we were actually talking, not just looking at one another, any other thing felt odd, unnatural.

He glanced at me, but soon brought his attention back to the road. "What do you mean?"

"You're… kind of quiet."

"I got… bad news after I got back in the office." At this point we were parked in front of my building. I wasn't in a hurry to leave; I was home half an hour earlier than I would have been if I returned by bus. "I have to leave town for a few days. There's this convention… someone else was supposed to attend it, but now I'm supposed to do it."

The sorrowful look he gave me suggested that we had the same thought in mind. "Oh."

Suddenly he leaned over and lay his palm against my cheek. My breath caught. I stared up at him, afraid to move a muscle. "The timing of this thing couldn't have been worse. I'm not happy about it, but I have to do it."

"W-when are you coming back?" It was difficult to remember how to utter a question properly when he was looking at me that way.

"On Friday morning," he replied, and flashed a grin at me; it made him look more like himself. "So how about Friday evening?"

Too lost in his deep green stare, I just nodded.

"I'm not sure I'll be available until Friday morning, so I'll just give you a call when I'm back about when to pick you up, is that okay?"

xoxox

But it wasn't okay. By Thursday afternoon I began to feel like such a fool. It was as if life had been sucked out of me. Angela thought I was hilarious. If this was how I acted two days after knowing the guy, she didn't want to see the shape I'd be in if it were a few months into this relationship. What made it even more absurd was that there really was no relationship to talk about. The bottom line was that I felt lost, and lifeless, so long as he wasn't in town. Each day at work seemed to be lasting forever with nothing to distract me across the street. Friday seemed to be the longest, especially after he finally called me, and told me to be ready at seven.

I was so miserable during his absence that I stooped to shopping by myself. Angela couldn't stop laughing at me when I got home carrying the only dress I'd picked by myself in my entire life. The salesgirl tried to hide her frown when she explained to me (as slow as you'd explain to a child) that tweed was probably not a good idea when summer was fast approaching. I flashed my sweetest smile at her and told her that if tweed wasn't supposed to be worn in May, then the dress really shouldn't be on display.

The dress was cute, I thought; made out of grey tweed, with a small pocket on one side of its short skirt. It had short sleeves rather than straps, which I liked. And I didn't care what the salesgirl had said. It was still chilly in the evenings in May. The dress would do just fine.

"Someone is impatient," Angela sniggered when I showed up, dressed and ready, in the living room at six in the evening.

"Impatient? Me?" I ran a hand through my hair, a motion I'd picked up from him. Angela shook her head as if she knew it. I threw her a look and came to sit next to her. She was watching a rerun of ER. "Isn't it enough that you spend half your time at a hospital, you also watch hospital dramas on your time off?"

"ER is good," she shrugged, but handed me the remote. "Here. I have to get ready for work anyway."

I sifted through the channels, and stopped on an old comedy I liked. I couldn't concentrate on the witty dialogues this time, though. Every once in a while my attention would be diverted, and my eyes would wander to the digital clock above the TV. Time _crawled_. It was excruciating. Angela joined me again at six thirty four (_that_ was how pathetic I'd been) and we spent another ten minutes or so staring absentmindedly at the TV. Her silence echoed my own. I knew she thought I was nervous, and that she didn't want to add on to that.

The closer the time got to seven, the more erratic my heart became. But then at some point I looked at the clock and realized it was five minutes after seven. I gasped; I couldn't hold it back. Angela flinched as if the same thing crossed her mind, only she'd done a better job hiding it. She didn't say anything though; neither did I.

"Right. I have to go," she said at last, breaking the silence. She stole a glance at the watch, trying to be subtle about it. Twelve after seven. It was clear both of us had the same thing in mind – he was late. I told myself I shouldn't be fussy about it. It shouldn't be his fault I possessed an unfortunate trait of getting anywhere fifteen minutes in advance. Angela's expression was sealed; it was impossible to know what she was thinking. From some reason, it made me giddier. She stopped by the door and smiled at me. "You look great, Bella."

There wasn't pity in her smile, just encouragement. It eased the tension just a little bit. "Thanks," I smiled. "Have an easy one."

With Angela gone, the silence felt more piercing. I'd given up on the TV at some point – it was just making me more nervous – and reached for the battered paperback on the coffee table. It was a historical thriller I borrowed off Ben, and under any other circumstances I wouldn't put down no matter what. This evening, though, it held no interest for me. I found myself glancing at the clock every three seconds. Stop stressing, I scolded myself. He'd be here soon.

The room began to feel stuffy, and I was starting to feel hot in my little tweed dress. Grumbling to myself about how the salesgirl had been right, I walked over to get the window open. Then, irritated by the silence, I turned the TV back on and found the music channel, hoping the loud sounds would drown this sudden anxiety I couldn't contain.

At seven thirty four, there was still no sign of Edward. I considered calling him, but I didn't want to be a pest. Ten more minutes and you'll call, I told myself, and thought how pathetic it was to stoop to internal motivation monologues that way. This was also when I realized I was starving – I skipped lunch because I knew we were going to dinner, but our reservation was for four – now five – minutes ago, and Edward wasn't here yet.

When I tried his cell phone a while later (eight minutes or ten minutes or twelve minutes later – I'd lost count), it just rang endlessly, and eventually I got an answering service. I tried again, dialing carefully each digit while keeping my eyes on the small card he'd given me, only to reach his voice mail again. I sighed, exasperated. Where _was_ he? I refused to acknowledge what was soon becoming more obvious by the second – he stood me up.

To be honest, I was more worried than pissed off at this point. Sure, I didn't know him for long, but I'd known him enough to know this was unlike him. Something must have happened. An accident, a flat tire, a stolen car…

There was one more option, one which I struggled to push away.

He had time enough to reconsider this, reconsider us.

I sat there with this last option hovering above me like a dark shadow. I stared at the screen without really seeing, through a veil of tears, ignored the passing time, and tried my best not to think.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

I didn't know what time it was, but it didn't matter. He wasn't coming. I just felt so stupid. After thinking everything was going to work out…

Who was I kidding? I should have seen this coming, long ago. The first time we ever got to talk, I _hit_ him, for crying out loud. Surely that was enough to think I was crazy. Then the next time I interrogated him about his personal life without even knowing him that well, which definitely didn't make me look better in his eyes. And as if those weren't enough… I wasn't overly pretty. I definitely wasn't rich. I didn't hold a senior position at my job, and I was obsessed with a children's movie. I had never been right for him in the first place. Only now he'd come to realize it himself.

A knock came on the door, putting an abrupt end to my intent staring at the TV. I crossed the room in two strides and tore the door out of my way. He was there alright, but dressed too casually as if he hadn't made any plans to go out tonight. Maybe he hadn't, an inner voice at the back of my mind resounded. Maybe, being the gentleman that he appeared to be, he'd only come here to notify me on his decision, and say goodbye.

His weary gaze met my perplexed one. "Bella – " was all he managed before I flung myself at him, and began to hit his chest with my fists.

"Where have you _been_? Do you know how worried I was? Why aren't you answering your phone? It's not unusual for someone my age to have a heart attack, you know, do you really want that on your conscious? What the hell where you _thinking_ – "

My string of complaints was cut off abruptly as his fingers wrapped around my wrists. I just stared at him as he slowly lowered my arms to my sides, unsure what had just happened, struggling to compose myself. I was amazed by some of the questions I'd let out. What the hell was wrong with me? Maybe I _was_ crazy. I sounded like a jealous girlfriend, neither of which I had been. I dated the guy _twice_ – what was _I_ thinking? Had I no self respect?

I exhaled, forcing myself to calm down, but all of a sudden the tension of the last hour or so was too much to take. I didn't even care if he was here just to tell me he didn't want to see me again. He opened his arms and I stepped into them, trying to hide the sobs that suddenly shook me.

"I'm so sorry. I should have called you, but I didn't think it would take so long… I got here as fast as I could. The last hour was such a nightmare." He rocked me gently in his arms; I clung to him a little tighter. "Please don't cry, Bella."

"I thought you changed your mind," I heard myself confess to him, my voice breaking on each word. He chuckled once; I wasn't sure what to make of it. I felt his lips press to the top of my head. I slowly pulled away from him. There was a smile on his face, a soft, tender smile, and I wondered what it meant. Was he smiling because that was exactly the case, and he _had_ changed his mind? Or because I was being ridiculous? I wasn't sure which was more plausible at the moment.

It looked as if he meant to say something, but then instead, he cringed when he caught sight of my dress. "You look so beautiful."

I laughed through tears, a bit disoriented by my own breakdown. "Liar. I'm a mess."

He ran his thumb from the corner of my eye down my damp cheek. "A beautiful mess."

Our eyes met, and the softness in his stare gave me the answer I so desperately needed. He wasn't here because he wanted to end things. He really was sorry for not being able to be here on time; which brought back my initial curiosity. I tugged at his hand gently, showing him in. I led the way to our tiny kitchenette. He sat on one of the high stools by our counter. I poured him a glass of water. He downed it in two long gulps before he spoke.

"I was getting ready when Emmett called in hysterics. Somehow I gathered that Rosalie slipped and hurt herself, and that he thought her leg was broken. He wanted to take her to the hospital so that my dad would look at it, but his car wouldn't start.

"I meant to give them a ride to the hospital and leave; I thought I'd still get here on time. But Rosalie was in pain and Emmett was a mess. My dad was up in a surgery so it was impossible for him to come over and examine her, which didn't help. I wanted to stay with them at least until she was admitted – that's when I realized I stupidly left my phone on my dresser."

I came to sit across from him, suddenly anxious myself. "Is Rosalie okay?"

"I don't know. They were still waiting for an x ray when I left." He reached for my hand and lightly squeezed it. "I'm sorry about all this. I'll make it up to you. I promise."

"I'm sorry I freaked out." It felt so selfish now. That poor girl was hurting, and I acted in the most immature way imaginable. "I didn't know what to think."

"Don't worry about it. I would have done the same, if it were me," he said, rolling his eyes. I thought it was nice we had one more thing in common, even if it was as absurd as low self esteem.

"It's okay. We won't make it to the restaurant at this hour, but we can stay here and order Chinese or something. We'll catch a movie on TV."

"I can't. I'm sorry. I have to check on the kids. Emmett left them with a neighbor, and it's probably way passed their bedtime now, but I don't know how long he's going to be away tonight and I don't want them to wake up at a stranger's house. Unless…" His somber expression brightened slightly when he looked up at me. "Unless you want to come with me."

"To babysit your niece and nephew?"

"I know it hardly counts as a date, and I know it won't change the fact you're mad because you thought I might stand you up, but it's better than completely ruin our evening."

His hand squeezed mine again. His eyes were leering at me, now hopeful. Like I could possibly say no. "Okay. Just give me five minutes to change."

When we left my apartment about ten minutes later, I had on jeans and a dark grey top, complete with my favorite sneakers. I wiped all traces of makeup away with the remaining tears. I kept my hair down, and it tickled my arms when we stepped into the night air.

On the way to his brother's place, I wondered what the hell I was thinking by relenting to follow him there. Tonight was supposed to be our third date. I hadn't even been to his apartment, and I was already going to babysit his niece and nephew? I tried to remind myself it was an emergency, and emergencies had no rules. Besides, Edward was right. It was better than wasting away an evening altogether.

By the time doubts really began to hit, it was already too late. Edward killed the engine in front of an apartment building much fancier than my own. They even had a doorman and everything. I tried not to look too much at awe, because he seemed so comfortable, chatting a little with the doorman before he led the way to the elevators.

I followed him to the eighth floor. The hallways were covered with scarlet plush carpet, muting the sound of our footsteps. I waited in the hallway when he knocked on Emmett's neighbor's door and spent a few moments talking to her. Their conversation was nothing but a murmur to me, a few steps away. A few minutes later he reappeared with a toddler curled half asleep in his arms. A little girl in blue pajamas was clinging to his leg. Her hair, almost gold in the faint light, tumbled down her shoulders in soft waves. She froze in place when she noticed me standing there. She looked frightened.

"It's okay, Lindsay, this is my friend Bella," Edward told her, in a voice so tender I thought my heart would melt.

"Hi Lindsay," I whispered, not wanting to wake her brother, who looked well out of it.

"Hi," she echoed, and buried her head in Edward's waist. He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, and then looked up at me.

"The keys are in my pocket; do you mind…?" He finished the question by looking at the back pocket of his jeans. I stared at him for a moment, unsure what he was asking me. Then, a second later, I snapped out of it. I reached over and shyly felt for the keys in his pocket, blushing furiously all the way through. He was watching me the whole time, and I knew he took it all in, even the way my fingers shook when I tried to hit the key in the lock.

When we walked in, Edward went over to put Josh in bed. Lindsay and I eyed each other shyly. She asked me if I knew when her daddy was coming home, which I didn't. Then she suggested showing me around. The apartment was twice as bigger than mine, and immaculate, a fact which shocked me considering there were two small children living there with their single dad.

Luckily, giving me a tour had warmed Lindsay up a little, and by the time we met Edward at the living room again, she was chatting endlessly, her tiredness all gone. She went over to Edward and told him she'd wait until her daddy was home. Edward didn't argue with her, and from the smile that curled on his lips I knew it wasn't the first time such conversation had been going on.

"Why don't we watch _Mary Poppins_?" Edward asked her, already putting it into the DVD player. I stared at him as he did. _Mary Poppins_? Did that mean –

"Bella?"

I blinked, still under the dazzling affect of my discovery, and realized he was watching me with that crooked grin on his lips. "Sorry, what?"

"I asked if you were hungry."

"Oh. Umm, yes. Starving, actually."

"Why don't you girls start watching, and I'll see what I can find for us in the kitchen?"

"Can I help, Uncle Edward?" Lindsay pleaded with him.

"You know what, I'll help too. We could watch it together later," I said.

We had scrambled eggs on sweet bread with chocolate milk. Then we moved back to the living room to watch the movie with Lindsay sandwiched between us. At some point though, despite her decision to stay up, her head drooped against my side. I nudged Edward when I noticed. He smiled as if he'd expected it.

"Wait here," he whispered as he gently scooped her in his arms. "I'll just tuck her in."

But as soon as they were gone, I lost interest in the movie we had left on. I stopped the DVD and wandered into the kitchen. I decided to clean up the mess we'd left behind. The sanitation of the rest of the place intimidated me. It seemed almost disrespectful to leave dirty dishes around. There weren't many of them, so I washed them by hand and ignored the dishwasher on the shelf.

"What are you doing?"

His voice came out of nowhere, sending my heart flying all the way to my throat with fright. The plate I held slipped from my grip into the sink, but thankfully remained intact. He shot me a look of disapproval as he walked into the kitchen. "You don't have to do that," he protested.

"I don't mind," I told him, and turned the tap off. Then I turned to face him. I was still a bit embarrassed about the incident with his keys earlier, but I struggled not to let it show. "Is she asleep?"

"Both of them are, yes."

He looked straight at me, and I'd come to recognize the sudden weakness in my knees. I leaned back, pressing my back against the marble counter until it hurt. He was slowly moving towards me; I wondered why this fact was making me nervous. "Have you called Emmett?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't catch the quiver in my voice.

He shook his head no, and didn't stop until he was standing right in front of me.

"Do you want some coffee?" My pulse was flying. A hint of a second later, his finger was suddenly on my cheek, drawing tiny circles on my skin. I felt my eyes widening when his other hand, suddenly on my waist, held me tighter against him. "What are you doing?" I murmured, my nose nearly touching his.

"Bella;" my name slipped like a caress through his lips, sending a shiver down my spine. "You ask an awful lot of questions."

My arms were sort of hung limply on my sides. Keeping my eyes on his, I brought one to rest against his chest and wrapped the other around his neck. The motion was slow, hesitant, because I still wasn't sure what the hell was going on. A part of me was still waiting for rejection.

It never came.

"I really want to kiss you," he whispered, so close to my face that he almost did.

"I really want you to kiss me," I replied, and my cheeks flushed at my confession. He smiled as if he noticed, and leaned in even closer. I briefly closed my eyes, only to open them again to see his lips nearly descending on mine. "Wait," I breathed, "I need to ask you one more thing."

He nodded, but stayed very close. His nearness made it difficult to remember what the question was in the first place.

"Are you a Julie Andrews fan?"

There was confusion in his eyes, which were very dark, when they met mine. I let the question linger in my gaze, but I was suddenly terrified the answer I was about to get was not the one I had hoped to hear. What if I was wrong? What if _Mary Poppins_ was nothing but a random choice to appease his niece, nothing but a –

"Yes."

I dared to breathe again.

There was a pause, long enough for his expression to shift from confusion to uncertainty. "Is this the wrong answer?"

Suddenly I wanted to giggle, but I wasn't sure if from the flustered look on his face, or the enormous relief his reply inflicted. I smiled instead, and pressed myself tighter against him; I heard his breath being caught. "You have no idea… how _right_ this answer is."

What happened from then on was a blur. Somehow we managed to blindly stumble from the kitchen back into the living room without bumping into anything in the process. We ended up on the sofa with him on top of me and my leg half hitched around his waist, exchanging frenzied, passionate kisses. My hands found their way beneath his shirt while his own fingers were buried in my hair. Every now and again one of us would break it off to hiss or giggle breathlessly or murmur the other's name, but most often to hush the other because the kids were sleeping obliviously down the hall.

I was dizzy and breathless and completely amazed. What the hell were we doing – what the hell was _I_ doing? This shouldn't feel so right so fast. This was insanity; I'd known him for a month, barely even that. This _was_ happening too fast. What kind of a girl did it make me if I didn't put an end to it now? If I didn't _want_ to put an end to it?

So when Edward abruptly pushed himself away from me, for one crazy moment I thought he could read my mind. And then I heard the door and realized it wasn't quite the case.

My frantic eyes met his. "Shit," he mumbled.

Hmm. Maybe somehow he _could_ read my mind.

I had about eight seconds to do something about my unkempt appearance before a tall, bulky man walked into the room. He had his dark hair cut short, and he ran his hand through it as if he were tired. His hand froze in place when he noticed us. I winced as his eyes took in his brother – who had managed to fling himself to the other end of the sofa, still looking a bit out of breath – and then widened ever so slightly when they met mine.

"_Well_," he said, his lips curling in a weary grin as he slowly lowered his hand. "I thought I recognized your car, dude, but I didn't think you'd have company."

Edward cleared his throat; I thought his cheeks turned slightly pink. "Emmett, this is Bella. Bella, this is my brother Emmett."

"Hi," I whispered, pretty much like his daughter had done when she first saw me.

"_You_'re Bella," he said, and it was clear it wasn't the first time he heard my name. I flushed and tried to smooth my hair, mostly for something to do. There was different sort of intensity to his gaze. It made me feel so self-conscious.

He chuckled to himself and turned to Edward. "I meant to apologize for ruining your date, but I see you got along just fine." He threw Edward such a dirty look I was horrified for him. Then he raised his arms, like Ben had often done while defending himself. "Dude, I don't mind. As long as this isn't stuff you're teaching my kids."

"They're asleep," I heard myself squeak.

It got his attention alright. He looked from Edward to me; his grin was so wide it nearly cracked his face. "Why, aren't you a beauty? I always knew my little brother has good taste."

"How's Rosalie?" Edward, who found his voice again, interjected.

"Better. It wasn't a fracture after all, but it hurts like hell, and she might have bruises for a while. She was more scared than anything else, really."

Edward snorted. "_She_ was scared."

"Surely I don't know what you're talking about," replied Emmett, his expression blank. "She's now safe at her place, and since I see my kids are okay, _you_ kids can get out of here and… continue whatever I've interrupted."

"We were just talking – " I tried, but his roaring laughter cut me off before I could finish.

"Talking! I know I taught my brother better than that!"

Edward glared at him; Emmett just shrugged, unaffected.

"Anyway, it's okay. You kids are dismissed. Thanks for the ride, dude," Emmett smacked Edward's shoulder. I held back a giggle. They noticed anyway. It made Emmett laugh. "Go before I make you look like a complete loser in front of your girl."

Edward murmured something under his breath, but nodded, took my purse, and led me out of the apartment.

We didn't speak on the way downstairs. It got a little colder and I wrapped my arms around myself, wishing I had brought a jacket. I knew he was following by the sound of his breathing, soft and steady behind me. I didn't want to turn and face him, not because I was embarrassed, but because I suspected that as soon as our eyes met, we'd pick up right where we had left off.

"I'm really sorry about Emmett," he said suddenly. We were right next to his car. "He can be a real jerk when he wants. Sometimes it amazes me _he_ is older." He chuckled. Then he took a step closer and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "What happened before he… I mean… that was…"

"Amazing," I heard myself complete, feeling uncharacteristically bold.

He nodded in agreement, and smiled shyly at me. "If I knew it would be like this, I would have hunted you down after the first day I saw you."

I blushed and lowered my head. This was why I felt his finger beneath my chin before I saw it. I had no choice but meet his gaze again. I didn't know which option scared me more – that he would continue speaking, or that he wouldn't, but he didn't say anything further. After holding my gaze for a moment later, he unlocked the car and helped me in.

We didn't say much on the way back to my place. I asked a little more about Rosalie, whom I discovered was a new assistant in the kindergarten Josh had attended, and that the kids loved her. I got him to tell me how he and the kids got their love for Julie Andrews from his mother, who used to play cassettes with her songs around the house. And it worked. With all those random, unimportant topics, I nearly stopped thinking about how his body felt against mine, the sensation of his fingers in my hair, how soft his lips were, and how much more I still wanted.

He walked me upstairs because he knew Angela wasn't in. At the door, awkwardness sipped back in. There were no safe topics to hang on to now. Amusement flickered in his gaze as it met mine. "So are you going to tell me why I've just given you a fourteen minutes' lecture about Julie Andrews?

I smiled sheepishly. "I'm not sure I want to. You might laugh."

"We don't know each other long, but I kind of hoped you knew me better than that by now," he chided me.

I leaned against my door. "I've got… a slight obsession with _The Sound of Music_."

He tried to keep his expression composed, but I noticed the grin he couldn't hide. "What, you go to screenings and singalongs dressed up like one of the characters, like _Rocky Horror Show_ fans?"

I burst into laughter. "When you put it like that, my case feels less extreme." Which was quite a relief – I'd never thought of it that way. "No, I just… like this movie more than any other movie, that's all."

"Well, that's hardly scary, Miss Swan." He shook his head. "But definitely something I can't wait to hear more about. Like tomorrow, at dinner? I _will_ be here on time."

I laughed. "Sure."

My laughter was short lived. Soon we were back into wordless staring at one another.

"Good night, Bella."

This time there was no kiss on the hand. Our lips met halfway with the same fervor as before. It was more than my mouth perfectly molding against his; it was my entire body. And leaning into him the way that I did, I wasn't cold anymore; I'd never felt warmer.

"Do you want to come in?" I breathed as soon as we pulled away, already resenting his absence. My fingers curled around the hair at the back of his neck, holding on to him.

He pressed his forehead to mine, still holding me by the waist. "More than you know," he whispered, but pulled further away as soon as he'd said it. "However, I want to prove to myself, and to you, that I can do better than Emmett has taught me."

For a moment, it was hard to know if he meant it or if he was teasing. He leaned over and dropped a kiss on my nose. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

Suddenly too exhausted to even speak, I simply nodded. With a flash of a grin he was gone, and I stood there gripping the banister and listening to his footsteps, slowly fading, and wishing for one moment he _wasn't_ better than whatever Emmett had taught him.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

A few weeks had passed, but I barely noticed. Every waking hour was filled with him. When we weren't together, I was thriving on the anticipation to see him again, and became anxious when from some reason I couldn't. We'd been keeping to ourselves, mostly. No one at my office knew. Alice was so busy with wedding preparations it was impossible to get anything by her, work included. And Edward admitted he hadn't had many friends to begin with, so he saw no reason to share it with anyone. I suspected he'd told his brother, but it wasn't something we'd wasted time talking about.

It was one day in the beginning of June when I walked into my office, and found a manila envelope stuck under my door, carrying my name in Alice's handwriting. Forehead cringing in confusion, I knelt to pick it up. I carried it over to my desk, wondering what on earth she would have sent me, but at the same time unsurprised – it _was_ Alice, after all.

A smaller envelope fell out of the bigger one, along with a neatly folded note. The envelope was addressed to _Bella + ? / Angela + Ben_. I immediately knew what it must contain, and unfolded Alice's note.

_Jasper brought these along after you left yesterday, and I didn't want to waste time on posting it. This question mark is better be replaced by then, dear bridesmaid! Don't let me regret hiring you for the job! A x_

I smiled to myself, and turned back to the envelope. Their invitation was beautiful; curly, golden letters on thin, nearly transparent maple-colored paper, matching Alice's theme colors, of course. I couldn't believe how close it suddenly was – a little over a month to go. I picked up my phone and dialed the number in her office, but she wasn't in yet.

I let my eyes wander to the note she attached. _This question mark is better be replaced by then_. It was prophetic almost, as if despite her ongoing distraction with her wedding, and without me saying anything, she'd known anyway. I smiled to myself, knowing that for the first time I was going to make Alice proud of me.

I don't know why it hadn't occurred to me that like she had stuck the invitation under my door, Alice would do the same with our colleagues, the Newtons included. In fact, it had _so_ not occurred to me, that by the time Mike showed up on my doorway half an hour later holding up a similar envelope, I didn't even suspect I was supposed to stay on my guard.

"Good morning, Bella."

"Mike," I nodded back without a note of enthusiasm in my voice.

"Lovely day, isn't it?"

I let out a non-committing murmur reluctant to break off my concentration over his attempt at small talk.

"So I suppose you heard about a certain happy occasion in our near future," he told me, sort of waving the invitation as if it were a small flag. If Alice had seen this treatment for her precious work of art, she would have got a heart attack.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm one of Alice's bridesmaids, Mike, of course I heard about it."

"Oh, are you?" His face lit up, and I knew I had just provided him with mental images that would last him a century. "Does that mean you're planning on being one yourself any time soon?"

"Being what?" I asked, suddenly weary although it was barely nine in the morning.

"Why, a bride."

"I really don't think so." With the way my parents' marriage ended, weddings had never been on top of my to-do list in life, let alone a wedding a-la-Alice.

"My parents and I have just received our invitation this morning," he said then. I didn't even have a chance to prepare myself to what was coming, when he continued. "I was wondering if you would like to come with me to Alice and Jason's wedding."

"Jasper."

"I'm sorry?"

"Alice's fiancé's name is Jasper. And anyway, I'm sorry, I can't."

"Are you bridesmaids not supposed to bring dates?"

I hoped he thought my smile was in response to his supposedly witty remark. "Umm, no, it isn't that," I said, biting my bottom lip. This was _it_, my one chance to get rid of him for good, once and for all. I didn't know the future. Edward and I might not last the year, the next few months, or even the short time that was left until Alice's wedding, but as of right now, he was my Prince Charming, my knight in shining armor. And he was going to rescue me from the evil beast.

I tried not to cringe when I locked my gaze with Mike's. I needed to do this once, but it had to be the right one. "I'm already going with someone."

For a moment he just stood there, blinking a few times, his eyes tiny behind his protective specs. And then, just as suddenly, he snapped out of it. "Oh. Well, that's… I haven't realized you were… w-when, I mean, for how long have you been…"

"A few weeks now," I replied, thinking it was probably our longest conversation ever – one which wasn't a monologue, that is.

It would sound crazy, but for once I saw him for what he was – a scared, defenseless guy, a child of thirty who didn't dare making a step without seeking for his mother's approval. And there I was, crushing what little he still had left of his already crushed ego. Suddenly, I felt bad for him.

"You know what, though," I told him, trying not to think of the way his shoulders sagged and his face fell. "Do you know Lauren from Accounting?" I flashed a conspirator's smile at him. "I happened to hear her mention your name to a friend during lunch the other day." I paused for impact, and winked at him. He looked terrified. "You should ask your mom to introduce the two of you."

I didn't know why I hadn't thought of it before – _way_ before. Lauren Mallory was relatively new in Rainbow, about a couple of months at the Accounting section on the other end of the floor. And I _had_ heard her speak about Mike once. I _should_ have done this before.

I glanced at Mike. I knew this plotting, contemplative face. I feared it. "Is that so? Well, I will, umm, make sure to do that." He looked at the invitation in a wistful sort of way. Then he looked at me, and shook his head. I couldn't really recognize the expression on his face. "You have a good day, Bella."

He'd said it almost every time he left my office, but it had distinct sense of finality to it now. This was the end of an era.

He shut the door quietly behind him, and I let out a sigh of relief.

It was the end of my alleged affair with Mike Newton.

xoxox

Alice showed up at my door not too long afterwards, all aglow. "Hi," she singsonged as she waltzed into my office.

"Hey. I got your invitation. It's very pretty."

"_Pretty_? It's a masterpiece! Far better than the ones Jasper wanted to – hey, what's wrong?"

Sometimes I wished she wasn't so intuitive. "Oh, not much, I just… I think I really hurt someone without really meaning to."

"I doubt it, sweetie; you couldn't hurt a fly." She turned her back on me and walked over to shut the door. Then she sat across from me and gave me her full attention. "Tell Auntie Alice what happened."

"Mike came to see me an hour ago."

She shook her head disapprovingly. "This is about Mike? Are you serious?"

"Kind of," I admitted; "I feel awful."

"Why? It isn't the first time you turn him down. It sure won't be the last."

"I know, but…" I sighed, unsure how to continue.

"Alright. Tell me exactly what happened."

"He… came over here to ask if I wanted to be his date for your wedding, and I told him I couldn't."

"Okay, but I still don't see the problem. Nothing new there."

Wait for it, I grumbled voicelessly, and took a deep breath. "I, umm, told him I already had a date for your wedding."

It had always amazed me how she had still managed to look graceful even with a frown. "So, what, it bothers you that you had to lie? Sometimes it's just necessary, Bella. It is, in Mike's case. You shouldn't make a fuss about it; it isn't worth it."

"I wasn't lying to him."

She gawked at me. "You weren't…"

Her voice trailed when I shook my head. "I do have a date for your wedding." I ignored the way her jaw dropped; I just wanted to be out with it already. "I'm sort of seeing someone. For about a month now."

"You're… _what_?" she asked, blinking. For a moment, I wasn't sure if she heard me. And then it sank in. Confusion shifted into comprehension, and she leaped out of her seat, all but landing in mine. "You're seeing someone? For real? About a _month_? How did this happen? _When_? How come you didn't tell me – _why am I always the last to know_?"

"Alice, breathe," I laughed. "If anything, you're one of the first to know, because I haven't told anyone."

"Mike knows before me," she pouted.

"Only because he needed to know the truth, not because I wanted to tell him."

"I can't believe this! I can't believe you've been so secretive about it! Gah!" She hit my arm, and sprang to her feet again. Too restless to stay seated, I stood up as well. "Well, who is this guy?"

"I met him at that gala I went to with Angela."

My eyes wandered involuntarily to the window across the street. He wasn't there when I looked earlier, but now he was, pacing in his office with a bunch of documents in his hands. His concentration was fascinating to watch. For a moment, I forgot Alice was still in the room.

"What are you looking at?"

I blinked, realizing a second too late her eyes were following mine. She wasn't stupid; I knew it wouldn't be long before she put two and two together.

"Please tell me I got it wrong and this isn't what I think."

Self defense was an instinct. "What's wrong with him?"

She squealed. "It _is_ what I think! Nicely done, my dear, stealing the heart of _Medicine Today_'s editor in chief!"

I blinked in disbelief. "Do you know Edward?"

"Not personally. But I have a few girlfriends on that floor who would die to be in your shoes just now! The stories I've heard about the company's heartthrob! I see they're completely justified, now."

As if he could somehow hear her, Edward suddenly looked up and found us watching him. A smile broke his bothered expression; he waved at me. I waved back shyly, painfully aware of Alice's inspecting gaze passing between us.

"Well, well, well," she murmured lowly, as if to herself, "Looks like his isn't the only heart stolen."

"Shut up, Alice," I muttered, reluctantly looking away from him.

"I have waited long enough to be able to do this, let me have my fun!" She flashed her impish smile at me, and did a little flirty wave with the tips of her fingers in his direction.

Smiling sheepishly, he waved back. Then his eyes flickered back to mine.

I shrugged helplessly. _I'm sorry_.

He shook his head as if he knew. _Don't worry about it_.

"Well, for what it's worth," said Alice; "This is one hell of a way to rid yourself of Mike Newton."

But even Alice's approval didn't make me feel better about all this.

xoxox

Mike didn't bother me again, and pretty soon I started feeling less guilty about what happened. Alice even told me she heard he was bringing Lauren to the wedding. Although I found it hard to believe at first, soon afterwards I got it confirmed by Mrs. Newton, who summoned me to her office to confide in me about her son's new romantic interest. Although I was really better off with less information about Mike Newton's love life, it was encouraging. I was grateful Lauren was enough of a distraction for him to finally let go a little.

As for me, I had distractions of my own, or actually just one big one who answered the name Edward Cullen. I hadn't seen him for nearly a week because he had an important deadline at work. He spent nearly every waking hour at the office – he was already there when I arrived at my office, and he was still there when I left. At least I could catch a glimpse of him every now and again through the window. We kept in touch through emails mostly, and he made sure to call me at least once each day, even if it was for a little while.

It was weird to be apart after spending so much time together; it made the week longer, but I didn't resent him for keeping his distance. I'd become as anxious about this deadline as he had been. This was why I was glad to find an email waiting for me on Friday morning. His message was businesslike and yet hilarious, inviting me to a surprise dinner at his place on Saturday evening.

I'd never been to his place before. It so happened that in the short time we'd been together, there had just never been a chance. Usually we'd gone out, or hung out at my place with Angela and Ben. I pondered over the content of his email. _A surprise dinner_, were his exact words. I knew it was probably another attempt to coax me into agreeing to meet his parents. He'd asked me several times now, all of which I'd turned him down. It felt like too big a step; thinking about it alone made me giddy.

For some reason, the thought about dinner at Edward's place made me impossibly giddier. Even if his intentions were completely innocent, I wasn't stupid. Another invitation, a completely different one, was hidden behind each and every word. Deep down I already knew how this evening was going to end before it had even begun.

I dressed with extra care, choosing a low cut jeans, lower than I'd normally go for, and a deep purple top Alice had bought me ages ago. It wasn't over the top – he did mention casual dress was in order – but it wasn't just my usual (and preferable) combination of jeans, top and sneakers.

And it served its purpose well. He gaped at me when he got the door open. My nervous giggle eventually broke his stare. "This color looks great on you," he managed, leaning forward to peck my cheek.

"Thanks," I replied, and shyly followed him inside.

I wasn't sure what I'd been expecting his place to look like, but I wasn't expecting this. It was smaller than Emmett's place, and cozier somehow. He had lit a few lamps that cast a golden glow around the room. The rest of it was swimming in dark shadows. He had quite a view of the city, shimmering like hundreds of diamonds through an enormous window which opened into a small balcony.

There were two massive sofas in teddy bear brown. They looked shabby, the kind you wanted to sink into and never get up from again. But what caught my attention most, aside for the sophisticated looking sound system and enormous plasma screen, were the shelves, dozens of them, filled entirely with CDs and books. I breathed in awe and walked over to one almost blindly. I traced a few binds with my finger. They looked ancient, some of them worn out leather. I'd always been fascinated by books, especially old ones like these. I examined them slowly, entranced, which was why I literally jolted when his arms slowly wrapped around my waist.

"Sorry," he murmured, his breath hot against my neck.

"That's, umm, quite a collection you've got here," I managed. My face felt warm; I knew that standing so close to me, he could feel the way my heart was suddenly racing.

"Thank you. I'm quite proud of it, actually. It makes moving a bitch, though, so it's probably safe to say I wouldn't be moving out any time soon."

As I leaned my back against his chest, I idly wondered if this place was rented, or if it was his, as I'd suspected. I didn't ask though. My mind was on other things. "I missed you," I whispered. I thought I felt him smile against the top of my head, but then I caught up on the music in the background, playing so softly it was easy to miss. I turned in his arms. "_Clair de Lune_?"

There was a flicker of something in his eyes. His arms tightened around me. "Do you know Debussy?"

"My mom used to play a lot of classical music around the house. Some of it stuck. This one is my favorite."

A smile curled on his lips. "It's mine too."

He leaned over to kiss me then, slowly, and I instinctively kissed him back. I couldn't believe it had been a week. Soon it turned into something a little more than the sweet kiss he had probably meant it to be, and I found myself wondering if there was more to it than us not seeing each other for a week. It was as if our bodies, as well as our minds, had known there was something different about tonight.

"Tell me something," I murmured, pulling away from him with difficulty. He nodded and trailed kisses along my cheeks, gently sucking on the skin just beneath my earlobe. It was extremely difficult to stay focused, but I needed to keep talking to keep my mind on the right track. "Your invitation didn't make sense. If you invite me to a surprise _dinner_, where exactly is the surprise in that?"

"Dinner isn't your surprise, silly," he smiled against my neck. His hand slipped, searching, along my side. When he found my hand, he laced our fingers together, and slowly led me across the room, where a small dining table was set for two.

We had a lot of catching up to do over dinner, but eventually the conversation died a little, and that thick tension was back double forced. Edward went over to turn off the music. We put the dirty dishes in the kitchen, and he took my hand and led the way back into the living room. He turned the TV on and told me to have a seat. I sank into one of the sofas; it was as comfortable as I knew it would be.

"When I was a kid," he told me as he came to sit beside me, "there was this community center that held screenings of classics every weekend. Since my dad was working a lot during weekends, my mom used to take us there. They had an amazing selection; black and white ones, epics, musicals, you name it. And it's still going on; my parents still go there, every now and again.

"I wanted to take you there, but they do _Gone with the Wind_ this weekend and it's too long, so I thought a private screening would be more fun."

He reached for the remote and turned the DVD on. There wasn't a DVD case anywhere, so I had no idea what he had in mind. He asked me to close my eyes as he set the menu and hit play. When he told me to open my eyes, I blinked, and brought my attention to what started running onscreen. From the corner of my eye I could see him watching me with a hint of a smile on in the corner of his lips.

I recognized it before the orchestra even hit the opening notes of the Overture. "It's…"

The curl of his lips turned into a proper smile now, a sheepish one. "I thought that since it's your favorite, we could watch it together."

The sting in my eyes was embarrassing. There was so much I wanted to tell him, but suddenly I couldn't find the words. So I did what I had apparently done best – I attacked him. I threw my arms around him, all but crushing him in a hug.

"Why, you're welcome," he laughed softly, and gently untangled himself from my grip. Then he moved to lay on his side and pulled me against him. I let out a contented sigh and leaned into him. There was something very intimate and yet not the least awkward about laying there so close to each other. It was as if we'd always done that. It was so comfortable that I'd almost forgotten to be embarrassed.

We watched in silence for a while. Every now and again he would ask me questions, or comment on bits he liked, all in a whisper right into my ear. At some point, while Maria was telling Captain Von Trapp off about mistreating his children, Edward shifted ever so slightly behind me. "Ah."

I threw him a glance from over my shoulder. "What?"

"I think we can now surmise where that temper is coming from."

For a second his expression was completely blank; then he chuckled. I did, too. "You're mean," I pouted, and brought my attention back to the film. Gently, he took my hand and intertwined his fingers with mine. I kept my eyes on the screen, but my attention was diverted by the feather light sensation of his touch. When the Captain joined the children in singing, I found myself enchanted again. This moment had never failed to stir something within me.

I glanced over my shoulder again, and realized Edward was staring at me. I also realized, to my horror, that there were tears in my eyes, streaming down my cheeks. "Damn it," I muttered, and flashed a grin at him. "I told you I was scary."

"I don't think you're scary at all," he said lowly. His eyes were smoldering, darker than usual in the dim light.

I turned all the way in his arms, laying on my side with my back to the screen so I could have a better look at him. "Thank you. It was really sweet of you to do this. No one's ever…"

"You're welcome."

And I still didn't look away. He wouldn't let me. I couldn't bring myself to turn my back on him. But then whatever was in the air was violently broken with the first shrill notes of _The Lonely Goatherd_. His lips turned in a tiny grin. "That's my favorite part."

But I wasn't sure he was talking about the movie anymore.

His fingers ghosted their way across my face. The touch made me shiver, and then burn, to the level I wasn't sure if I was hot or cold anymore. I couldn't look away from him; I didn't want to. His thumb traced a path opposite to my tears, ending at the corner of my eye. I smiled at him, a nervous sort of smile. The way my heart was beating was downright embarrassing.

"Bella," he murmured, and there was an edge to the way he uttered my name. More than anything, it reflected a need similar to my own. This realization filled me with sudden confidence. I leaned forward to kiss him. He moaned softly as soon as our lips touched, as if he'd contemplated doing it himself. His hand slipped from my eye to the side of my cheek, holding on to my face as our kiss deepened.

Pretty soon both of us were out of breath, but stopping now, even for air, seemed impossible. I wasn't sure which one of us broke it off eventually, or how we sat up, but there we were, tangled in one another and breathing heavily. He cradled me against his chest.

"Bella," he gasped before pressing his lips to my temple. "I don't want you to think I'm… I didn't invite you here for…" His ramble turned into a hiss when my fingers found their way beneath his shirt.

I wanted to tell him to stop being silly, but I couldn't string my words together. Instead, I kissed him again, but there was hesitation now in his every movement. While this sudden lack of confidence was endearing, it was also sort of frustrating. I didn't want him to pull back now because he believed he was forcing things on me. There had to be a way to explain to him all this guilt was completely unnecessary.

I pulled away from him, trailing kisses to his neck. I reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, thinking it was enough of a hint as for what I really wanted. I caught a glimpse of the TV screen when I tossed the material over my shoulder, and turned back to grin at him. "I think the screening will just have to wait for a while."

Instead of replying, he kissed me hard, crushing me to him as he brought us to a standing position somehow with our lips still locked around one another's. The TV remained on, the movie forgotten, as we kissed our way down the dark hallway.


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N: so this is the final chapter. There's still an epilogue which I'll post in a few days. In the meantime, I want to thank everyone who have read, reviewed and put this story on alert – you rock. Thanks so much. Here's a bit more (steamy) fluff to sum things up – happy reading x**

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Chapter Ten

The first thing I'd become aware of was that beneath these cotton covers that fluttered around me, I was naked, and that they felt nice and soft against my skin. I also knew that I was supposed to be cold, but from some reason I wasn't. Something felt warm nearby, throbbing softly against my ear. The rest was a blur. Beyond the stiffness of my body, my mind was under a blissful haze. All I remembered were sensations; everything else was still vague, numb, at the back of my mind, ready to be reawakened as soon as I was up. I didn't want to open my eyes. I wanted to hold on to them for a little longer, for as long as I could.

But then, a moment or two or dozen later, my eyes fluttered open, and a room swam into focus. Not _my_ room, because grey didn't dominate my shoebox of a bedroom in the apartment I'd shared with Angela. Through weary eyes, I took in what I could in my field of vision – moving, for whichever purpose, was not an option.

I hadn't seen much of it in the darkness the other night, but I could see now how different it was to the warmth of the teddy bear brown living room. It wasn't very big, although bigger than my own. From wall to wall, it was covered in a fluffy grey carpet. A large window occupied nearly an entire wall, and I imagined quite a view coming through there, if not for the blinds, which were shut now. The bed covers were dark grey, almost black, perfectly contrasted with the sheets that had a pearly shade. The room was immaculate except for a trail of clothes that started at the door and ended at the foot of the bed. My purple top, thrown somewhere in the middle of this mess, stood out against the light color of the carpet.

There was a shift behind me, and his arm draped around my waist as he began to nuzzle my neck, somehow knowing I was awake. I giggled and pressed my back closer to his chest. "Can I tell you a secret?" he murmured huskily, pressing his lips to the skin beneath my ear.

"Oh my God," I mock-groaned; "They _are_ your kids, aren't they?"

He laughed; the low sound rumbled in his chest and made me shiver. He held me tighter as if he noticed. His finger brushed along my arm until it found my palm. His hand covered mine for a moment before he laced our fingers together. "Today's my birthday."

In a way, it surprised me more than if he had admitted to be Lindsay and Josh's father. I turned and lay on my back, slowly letting go of his hand in the process. He hovered over me, propped on one elbow. He smiled down at me, sleep still in his eyes. "Have you tricked me to spend the night here so you could get yourself a birthday feast?"

For a split second his eyes widened in horror, as if he thought I might actually mean it. I chuckled; the relief on his face was instant. Bright pink still tinted his cheeks. I traced my thumb along one of them, fascinated. I hadn't met men who blushed before.

I let my thumb wander down his face, and eventually placed it on his lips. He smiled and kissed it. "How come you haven't said anything?"

"I don't like making a fuss about my birthdays."

That I could understand. "Me neither."

He lay back down and pulled me closer to his side. I rested my head against his chest and he wrapped his arms around me. His fingers threaded in my hair, gently untangling it. I closed my eyes; I loved it when he played with my hair. "How old are you?" I murmured, realizing just now that I had no idea.

"Twenty seven."

I absentmindedly drew the number on his chest with my finger.

"Therefore too young for your children theory."

I chuckled, too tired to look up and face him.

"Speaking of birthday feasts, though…" His fingers continued to comb through my hair, grazing my back every now and again. "My parents are throwing me a party. Well, sort of," he hurried to correct himself, as if he felt my body stiffening. "It's just BBQ at their place, but there's going to be a cake and everything."

This time I pulled myself up on my elbow and glanced at him suspiciously, trying to figure out what he'd been trying to tell me. My tiredness was all gone. Suddenly, my mind was painfully alert.

"I'd love it if you come."

I stared at him jaw-dropped. It felt as if I'd just lost to him in chess. "I thought you just said you didn't like making a fuss about your birthdays."

He pulled off an innocent face; I didn't buy it for a second. "This is different, since this lunch is forced on me. I just want to have one friendly face around," he said, and pouted as he touched a finger to my chin.

"You _will_ have friendly faces there," I pointed out sourly. "Your _entire family_."

He smiled, and for a second I was sure he'd given up. I should have known he was simply putting his tactics together.

The next thing I knew I was on my back again, and he was hovering over me, his lips inches from mine. "Please, Bella?" he whispered, and pressed his lips to my pulse point.

A moan escaped me before I could remind myself to hold it back. He grinned against my skin and trailed kisses along the side of my throat. I lay there squirming and grasping the sheets, trying to resist the 'yes' I could feel on the tip of my tongue.

He dropped a kiss on the corner of my lips and looked up. His eyes were gleaming in the semi-darkness.

"When – when is it?" I heard myself ask.

"Today at one," he breathed, his lips feather light on my jaw. "I'll drop you at your place so you could change… and I'll come to pick you up later." I writhed, desperate for his nearness, trying to capture his lips in mine, but he was having none of it. "Okay?" he whispered, his tone seductive like I didn't know was possible. He kissed me, but pulled away after a second, promptly ignoring my whimper of protest. He did it again, and again; I'd yell at him for driving me crazy with want, if I could only find the words.

And it was still there, his request, clear against the emerald of his eyes. I mentally groaned. There seemed to be no getting away with it.

"Okay," I whispered shakily, nearly tearing the sheets with my fists.

"What was that?" he murmured, gently sucking on my earlobe.

"Okay. I'll come to your birthday party at your parents' house."

I wriggled beneath him again, blind with lust. This time he gave me what I needed. We kissed for a long time before the need for oxygen became more urgent than the need for him. I pulled away from him abruptly, and tangled my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck to keep him close. His breathing was raspy, scolding hot against my already heated skin.

His lips curled in a hint of a smug grin. "It's impossible for me to take 'no' for an answer, remember?"

"Shut up before I'll change my mind."

His grin widened as if he knew I wouldn't.

xoxox

It felt odd to be back in the sunlight, the real world, after spending so much time in the enclosure of his apartment. Once outside our blissful, private bubble, it was only inevitable that awkwardness would sip in. We spent the ride to my place in complete silence, stolen glances at one another, and shy smiles whenever one of us got caught. Words felt unnecessary after everything that passed between us the other night, and this morning. When we were parked next to my building, we just kept sitting there, staring straight ahead, not speaking. Neither of us made any move to get out, or say goodbye.

At last I peeked at him from beneath my lashes. I tried to speak, but nothing came out. I cleared my throat, and still my voice was nothing but a whisper. "I'd better go."

He was barely looking at me, just from the corner of his eye. "I'll pick you up in a couple of hours." Then, as if he thought better of it, he turned to face me. His eyes spoke volumes.

We leaned towards one another at exactly the same moment. Our kiss was softer than any of those we had shared in the past twelve hours or so, sweet and lingering, an aftermath. Even after we pulled away he held my face gently between his hands, looking deeply into my eyes.

"Bella, I…" His voice trailed as if he didn't know how to continue; his eyes burned as if he did. Then, in a heartbeat, it was gone. He shook his head. "Nothing. I'll see you in a couple of hours."

But it was too late, because I'd already known what he wanted to say, but couldn't. I smiled and placed another kiss on his lips. "Me too," I whispered, and left the car before he could question it.

At this point, it seemed better to leave some things unsaid.

xoxox

I almost feared to go home, knowing Angela was waiting for me to return and report back. We hadn't spoken about it before I left the other night, but I sensed that she'd suspect I'd spend the night at Edward's. She saved me the embarrassment of talking about it beforehand, but I knew there would be no getting away with it now. She'd know as soon as I'd walk in. I'd have to tell her something.

I should have known that Angela, being Angela, would be more interested in the surprising news of me having lunch at her boss' place in less than two hours, than me spending the night at his son's. When Edward arrived punctually two hours later, she was supposedly more subdued, but mouthed _text me_ as soon as he had his back turned to her.

"I should have brought them something. Flowers. Or a pie. Or… something," I told him, suddenly restless, as we got closer to our destination. It bothered me since we had left my building, but whenever I tried to bring it up, he dismissed my concerns. It was my first time at their place; it didn't feel right to come empty-handed.

"Don't be silly. They won't care about that."

"But _I_ do," I protested, pouting. He kept his eyes on the road, but the way his lips curled was unmistakable. I rolled my eyes, but said nothing more about it. I looked around instead. I thought what it would be like to grow up in one of the dollhouses we'd passed, brick houses with perfectly mowed lawns, tin mailboxes and battered bikes thrown against the cobbled paths. I imagined him, growing up in a place like that.

A curb and two stop signs later, he slowed down considerably, and I knew the house before he drove into the front parking lot. It looked like the other houses in the row, but at the same time it was nothing like them. It was at the very end of the street, which provided the Cullens with more privacy than their neighbors. The house, two stories high, radiated wealth, but not in a way that made it stand out. It was clearly old, and yet perfectly preserved.

"Your parents know I'm coming, don't they?"

Suddenly, killing the engine required his full attention. "Umm, no. I didn't get a chance to tell them," he finally admitted, suddenly sheepish.

"Two hours wasn't enough time?" I screeched, suddenly regretting my defeat.

He laughed, and got out of the car. I didn't wait for him to get the door for me. Outside, the scent of jasmine and freesia was carried in the air, and I realized it was because there were a few bushes leading to the front door. They were perfectly trimmed, in full bloom. The wall by the door was adorned with vine, which laced its way to the corner of the house and up. The small parking space was occupied by two cars, a black Mercedes and a dark blue, sophisticated looking Audi. Edward parked parallel to the sidewalk, blocking the Audi.

He reached for me. I placed my hand in his, scoffing. He lightly kissed my forehead. "Relax. You've met them before, remember?"

"Yes, but not as your… as your…"

He tensed. So did I. "As my…?" he asked, his eyes glinting mischievously.

"Ugh, forget it," I muttered, and gave him the slightest nudge forward.

My pulse was suddenly erratic. I couldn't believe I had almost said it. I knew he could feel the cold sweat that suddenly moistened my hand, and I hoped he wouldn't comment on it. I glanced at him; a rather smug grin was stretching across his lips. I pursed my lips, hoping the moment would pass if I just ignored it.

Wordlessly, he led me along the path to the back of the house. What surprised me most was the silence. Edward had mentioned Emmett and the kids would probably be there, and I assumed that if that were to be the case, I would hear their loud voices by now, but there was none. I was about to ask him about it when the path suddenly stretched into a wide lawn.

I tried not to gawk. Their backyard was _huge_. The porch led to a wooden deck, on which a large grill was situated. I recognized Emmett by the fire, and Dr. Cullen on his side. It threw me off a little to see him dressed so casually, with no tux or hospital garb on. He was just as breathtaking. I gave the lawn another look around. Apart for a few stray toys thrown on the grass, the backyard was completely deserted. I meant to ask Edward where his mother was, but that was when Emmett happened to look up and notice us approach. He did a double take.

"I'll be damned!" he bellowed, loud enough for us to hear him on the other side of the lawn. By the time I realized Edward and I were still holding hands, it was too late to pull my hand free.

"Language, Emmett!" Esme, just out on the porch with a tray of defrosted hotdogs, scolded him. Emmett took the tray out of her hand and threw a meaningful look in our direction. Her eyes followed his, widening as soon as she noticed us. Emmett's expression turned smug when she shook her head and approached us.

Edward let go of my hand so he could give her a hug. "Honey, happy birthday!" she gushed. I didn't realize how tiny she was; she all but disappeared in his arms. Then, slowly pulling away from him, her eyes zeroed back on me. "Well, this is a nice surprise," she said, her eyes wandering between the two of us. "You didn't tell us you were bringing any guests." Her eyes, exactly like her son's, were gleaming when they met mine again.

"It was a last minute decision."

"I hope it's okay," I added, suddenly unsure.

"Of course it is okay, Bella!"

"You remember my name," I stupidly pointed out, a little taken aback.

She beamed at me, but didn't manage more when Emmett came over and wrapped an arm around her affectionately. "Of course she does, with _him_ mentioning it pretty much around the clock – "

My eyes flew to Edward, who looked mortified. "Stop it," he muttered, narrowing his eyes at his brother.

"You love it," Emmett protested, puckering his lips.

"Bella," Dr. Cullen was suddenly there, warmly shaking my hand. His voice was velvet, his smile dazzling. It took all I had not to stagger back. "Welcome to our house. It's lovely to see you again."

"You too," I smiled shyly. Their attention took me off-guard. I wasn't expecting them to remember my name, to be so welcoming and friendly. My mind wandered involuntarily to Emmett's statement, the one Edward had managed to intercept. I couldn't help but wonder what exactly was behind it. Had he been telling his family about me, about us?

"The kids…"

"Inside," Esme replied before Edward could even finish his query. "Josh has managed to cover himself in marinade, so Rose is helping him to put on a new shirt."

They managed to ask us a few more questions about the traffic and exchange a few remarks about the weather before we heard loud noises from the direction of the house, getting louder and louder. Upon spotting Edward, the kids squealed and charged themselves at him, yelling his name. The woman who followed them was as beautiful as I remembered her. She looked more like a model than an assistant kindergarten teacher, somehow glamorous in simple jeans and a cotton tee shirt. I didn't know why I'd expected her to limp – it _had_ been a month – but she walked pretty normally as she approached us, kissed Edward's cheek and wished him happy birthday.

"You heard about Rosalie, I'm sure," Emmett told me, because Edward's attention was already diverted by Josh, who demanded to be picked up by his uncle. "Rose, this is Bella."

"Oh, _you_'re Bella." The recognition in her eyes made my cheeks flare. Emmett's grin widened as if he noticed. "It's nice to finally meet you. We all thought he'd hide you forever."

"Maybe I should have," Edward muttered, throwing another glare at Emmett.

I didn't know how long Rosalie had been part of the family, but it felt as if she were one of them. Her use of _we_ suggested it, as if they had all been one unit. Dr. Cullen and his wife seemed really fond of her, and she was clearly on friendly terms with Edward as well, teasing him and being teased.

Josh, still in Edward's arms, asked him in an audible whisper who I was while glancing shyly at me.

"She was our babysitter when Rosie was sick," Lindsay answered instead, and I was shocked she remembered. Although we had spent an hour or two together that evening, she'd been drowsy most of the time, and I hadn't seen her since. It seemed unlikely she would remember it so clearly. "_You_ were asleep," she pointed out with a sneer, in an older sister superiority I never got to experience first-handed.

Josh's little forehead wrinkled in a frown. "But Rosie isn't sick no more," he told Lindsay. He clang to Edward, his tiny fists gripping at his neck, and looked at me suspiciously, as if I was there to steal the only mother figure he'd ever known.

"This is my birthday party, so I invited her," Edward told him. His eyes briefly met mine as he ruffled the child's hair. There was smile in them. It amazed me how at ease he seemed with them. It really was as if they were his.

"Bella is Edward's babysitter today, Josh, not yours," Emmett told his son, throwing both of us a look as if he could somehow tell what happened the other night. Everyone groaned at his remark, and it was clear they all had vast experience with his innuendoes.

Esme insisted on showing me the house, and to my enormous relief Edward followed. The house on the inside was breathtaking, completely different from its modest exterior. There was nothing ostentatious about the décor despite the expensive-looking suede furniture, several pieces of antiques and the few pictures that hung on the walls, clearly originals. It all looked worn out, but in a good way. It wasn't the museum you'd almost expected it to be. People obviously made the best out of living in this house.

I'd become calmer by the time lunch was over. Some of the tension had eased considerably by then, and I even managed to intercept a few of Emmett's suggestive remarks. Edward seemed impressed. And despite my initial giddiness, I discovered I was actually enjoying myself. The Cullens had a way of making you feel one of them without being too pushy or irritating. No wonder Rosalie managed to appear like one of them so fast.

Hating to lag behind his sister, after lunch Josh clung to my leg, and asked if I wanted to see their tree house, which was on the lower branches of a huge oak tree in the corner of the yard. Small logs along the massive bark led up towards it, a wooden structure that looked as if it had always been part of that tree. I eyed it fretfully, thinking it would probably collapse as soon as I went up there with him, but Emmett hurried to assure me that it was up there since he and Edward were little, and it had passed its test years ago, hosting certain adult activities that had kept it standing. I cringed. I really thought I was better off not knowing exactly the nature of this _test_. I simply hoped all evidence for it had been removed before he got his own kids up there.

Edward, feeling my hesitation, said he'd go up with us. That got a huge grin on Emmett's face, one which Edward promptly ignored when he hoisted me up the bark and then followed me.

It wasn't so bad, once I was convinced the floor wouldn't fall apart beneath us. The place was actually pretty well-stocked, with old-looking board games and cards and a few action figures for Josh, who couldn't play with the others just yet. The kids stayed with us until Emmett came to get them about an hour later. He winked at us before following them down. I mentally groaned. Glancing up at Edward, I could see he shared my feelings.

"I'm curious about something," I told him once I was sure we were alone. He eyed me questionably. "How many girls did you bring up here?"

"I'm sorry, you must be mistaking me for my brother," he made an attempt to tease, but the question clearly made him uncomfortable.

I scooted closer and wrapped my arms around his neck. "How many?" I asked again, a whisper against his ear. I smiled when I heard him gulp.

"You're the first since junior high."

I stole a kiss and loosened my grip on him, then lay my head against his shoulder. It was quiet up there, with the wind blowing into the treetops high over our heads, nothing but the rustle of branches. Loud noise came from the direction of the house. Emmett's voice sounded louder than anyone else's.

"We should get back." There was reluctance in his voice.

"In a bit."

He didn't protest, just held me closer.

I wondered if we were ever going to mention anything about what he meant to tell me in the car that morning, what I'd almost said back. A part of me preferred to keep things as they were – simple, uncomplicated. Being here at his parents' felt like too big a step as it was. Anything bigger than that would just feel overwhelming. And in a way, it scared me, because after merely a month together, those words, or the yearning to hear them spoken, shouldn't feel so right.

Besides, there was something I had to do first.

"I want you to come with me to Alice and Jasper's wedding."

He threw me a puzzled glance. "I thought I was already going with you."

I laughed softly at the hint of uncertainty in his half statement, half question. I looked up, and shifted until I was sat right in front of him. I kept my eyes locked on his, making sure I had his full attention before I spoke again. "Not as my date. I want you to go with me… as my boyfriend."

His lips parted in a soundless gasp. We'd never discussed titles before; it seemed childish. We'd never referred to each other as boyfriend or girlfriend; the thing between us had never been addressed as a relationship. But last night felt like a turning point, a significant step forward. Certain changes had to be made. The fact I'd almost referred to him as such earlier suggested what I'd already felt. We were ready. For _this_ change, at least.

A smile slowly broke on his lips. He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "I think I'll like that," he murmured, his lips suddenly inches away from mine.

I gasped in mock-astonishment. "Did you lure me up here for _that_?"

"It's okay," he whispered back, and there was a smirk in his voice; "It's a relatively known fact that tree houses are built for the purpose of bringing one's girlfriend over."

I raised one eyebrow. "Oh, is it, really?"

But before our lips so much as brushed against each other's, Emmett's voice was suddenly closer, extremely so, as if he was standing right below the tree. "Come down, you two, the cake is all ready and Edward needs to make a wish!"

Edward groaned softly and then leaned closer again, his lips curled in a tiny smile. He kissed me, briefly but very sweetly, and then got up and pulled me to my feet. I followed his lead down the tree. When I was close enough to the ground, he reached for my waist and lifted me off the last few steps, ignoring his brother again. Then, halfway to the house, he reached for my hand despite Emmett's wolf whistles. I laced our fingers together and lightly squeezed his hand.

Looked like he had already had one of those wishes covered.


	12. Epilogue

**A/N: Thank you so much again for your reviews and alert and attention, everyone, they all mean a lot! I added pics of Bella's dress and shoes to my profile so make sure to have a look at those. Also, I'm currently working on a few more Twilight pieces, so keep an eye on those alerts!**

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Epilogue

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

The garden exploded with cheers when Alice and Jasper's kiss sealed the service. I only pretended to be part of the mayhem. The sound got stuck halfway up my throat, blocked by this lump that had formed there halfway through the service. I clutched my bouquet tighter and watched them through a veil of tears. I was glad Alice's attention was diverted. At least she wouldn't be able to yell at me I was ruining the makeup she'd spent hours applying. I caught the eye of her maid of honor, one of her cousins I hadn't known until four days ago. She smiled sympathetically as if she knew exactly how I felt.

I stepped aside once family members dashed forward to congratulate the happy couple. It didn't seem right to barge in to this private moment. I'd have enough time to hug both of them later. My eyes flew over the strangers now, trying to hunt that pair of emerald eyes that had kept me distracted throughout the service. He should be easy to spot with his cerulean blue dress shirt, probably with Angela and Ben someplace because he didn't know anyone here too. But then I saw them, laughing about something across the garden, without him.

I lay my bouquet on one of the seats in the front row, biting my lip as I straightened up. My feet were killing me. I couldn't understand how it was possible, considering I'd been wearing these damn shoes for two hours each day in the passing week just to avoid the pain and blisters today. Considering how awful it felt now, it didn't do much good. They looked innocent enough – small and satin and matching my dress – but I'd never worn anything more lethal. I couldn't wait to find our table and crash into my seat for the rest of the day.

I was still lost in this thought when his arms were suddenly around me. I started, but my yelp was swallowed by the clamor. I wasn't expecting him to appear from right behind me. I spun to face him and threw my arms around him, still half crying, but half laughing too. He laughed softly and pulled me closer. I lay my cheek against his chest and exhaled slowly as he tightened his embrace. Days of anxiety and stress and stage fright dissolved into thin air when he held me.

"Relieved?" he asked, gently pulling away, as he flashed his crooked smile at me.

"God, yes."

"Does that mean you'll finally come over tonight?" he whispered seductively. His grin widened as if he noticed me shiver.

Although in the past month or so we'd been spending nights at each other's apartments, the last week had been so hectic that it forced us to part. I'd spent the last three nights at Alice's, occupied by wedding preparations. Looking up at him, it seemed as if the last few nights had taken their toll on him as well. I grinned and pressed myself closer against him as I stood on tiptoes to whisper in his ear, cringing only slightly at the pain that shot right through me. "Yes, I think that can be managed."

"Excellent."

He leaned over ever so slightly; so did I. His eyes met mine, and I could see a similar intention reflecting in his stare, but before either of us could act on it, I heard Angela calling my name, waving at us from what I assumed was our table. I looked up at him again, and shrugged. He grinned; there was promise in his eyes. Later.

The Newtons intercepted me halfway to our table. Mike, surprisingly (and yet, thankfully), was nowhere to be seen, but I'd caught a glimpse of him earlier with Lauren Mallory. Mrs. Newton asked me who my friend was, all the while eyeing Edward openly and curiously. Mr. Newton surprised me when he told her who he was. There was appreciation in his eyes when they met mine. There was something strangely reassuring in knowing he thought I'd chosen well.

Lunch was served shortly afterwards, after a few toasts by Alice's dad and Jasper's best man. I only caught a glimpse of Alice; she didn't seem willing to leave Jasper's side, and I didn't want to interrupt. Besides, I had tons of catching up to do with Angela, after a week of constantly missing each other. At some point, between the appetizers and the main dish, Ben and I switched seats because Edward teased us about speaking over his head while he could be speaking to Ben instead of trying to keep up with us.

Edward, like me, didn't make friends easily. This was why it surprised me how quickly he bonded with Ben. They had a lot in common, apparently. They liked the same baseball team, and had a secret passion for old comic books. It was actually kind of great because this way we could all hang out together. At first I feared that being with Edward would keep me away from my friends, because I wanted to be with him all the time. But with him getting along so well with them, there was no reason for me to be away.

"So Bella, are you in?" Ben asked me when Angela and I eventually tried to catch up on their conversation.

"In on what?" I asked, a bit confused, as I looked from him to Edward.

"Camping!"

"I'm sorry?" I blinked, unsure if I heard Ben correctly.

"We want to go fishing," he replied, shrugging. Between us, Edward nodded seriously, irresistibly.

"You want to go fishing," I repeated slowly, trying my best not to laugh. "Well that's… random," I added, looking up at Edward. "Since when do you like fishing?"

He laughed softly. "There are a few things you don't know about me yet."

"_Fishing_?" I asked again, skeptically.

"I used to be quite good at it… when I was thirteen."

I was immediately distracted by a vision of thirteen year old Edward trying to handle a fishing rod twice his size.

"Come on, Bella, don't be such a girl," Ben complained, and I realized to my horror he was serious.

"Camping," I said, half to myself, half to them, still in that doubtful sort of tone. I sighed, and glanced at Angela, who looked amused by the whole exchange.

"Well, I do have some days off I haven't used yet. I guess we could go in August at some point."

"Awesome!" Ben rejoiced, and slapped Edward a high five as if they were both eight. It was quite cute actually.

This got them all excited, and for the past hour or so they sat there prattling like two old ladies, discussing routes and reservations and cabins. I just sat there watching them incredulously, wondering how I'd got myself into it. Then at some point lunch was over and the music resumed. Ben, who had to let some of that energy off, wanted to dance, so Angela and him left. I looked after them, smiling at the sight of Angela's lavender sundress. I really liked this one; it fit her well.

There was a shift to my right, and suddenly his breath was hot against my neck. I started; I didn't realize he was sitting so close. I looked around us, embarrassed, but we were the only ones around the table. The dance floor suddenly looked packed. I looked up at him, well aware of the fact my face was probably still flushed bright pink.

"Dance with me," he whispered, dazzling me with that smoldering stare again.

"No," I said, softly so he wouldn't be offended. Then I cracked a smile; he did too. This wasn't a new argument. He'd known the answer before he asked it.

"I heard all your silly excuses. If you want me to stop asking, you'll have to come up with a good one."

"My feet are killing me in those stupid shoes."

"Take them off," he reasoned.

I sulked. "And risk Alice hunting me down? No way. She made us promise we wouldn't take them off. They're original Manolo Blahnik, you know."

He rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything further. Instead, his eyes scanned the dance floor over my shoulder. Then, a moment later, his lips curled in a mischievous grin. He stood up and held out his hand. "Come on."

"Edward, no – "

"Come on. Trust me."

"But those shoes – "

"You won't need them." I eyed him dubiously, suspiciously. He held his own. "Trust me."

Sighing, I placed my hand in his. His grip was confident, and he had that smug grin on as if he knew he was going to win. He slowed down his pace so I could follow better, half walking, half limping in those god-awful shoes. To my horror, he headed straight to the floor. I meant to tell him there was no way I would be submitting myself to this, but then held the protest back because we simply crossed it through the swaying, sweaty bodies.

"Where are you taking me?" I giggled. He threw me a look from over his shoulder, but said nothing. He turned away before I could even make sense of his expression.

A moment later, I had my answer. I gasped, then halted, and stared at the familiar structure with my jaw dropped. I'd seen the gazebo before, of course; the service had taken place right next to it. But I hadn't thought much of it before he led me there. I hesitantly followed him up the three stairs, and hoped he wouldn't be able to feel the racing rhythm of my heart.

He motioned to the stone bench that circled the gazebo's length. I sat down, still in a daze, and he knelt in front of me. Slowly, he pulled my right leg up and lay it on his thigh. His touch was light, gentle, tickling my ankle. He eased the straps off my skin, taking first one shoe off, then the other. All the while I was watching his movements, oddly transfixed. "Better?" he asked as he slipped the second one off.

Unable to speak, I simply nodded. When he held out his hand for me, I shyly took it, and let him pull me to my feet. There was certain relief in being barefoot, but it was still an impulse to glance frantically around, fearing Alice would find out. Luckily, it was growing dark; it would be difficult to spot us in our temporary sanctuary. I lay my head against his chest as he held me closer, and we began to slowly sway to the sound of some unknown song that was playing on the dance floor.

I could hardly believe he'd talked me into this. I wasn't much of a dancer. It could be quite complex for the uncoordinated, so I avoided it by habit. No one had ever managed to convince me to go on a dance floor, not even in my senior prom. And yet there I was, dancing with him in this gazebo at twilight –

Hmm. Hold on a second.

Dancing.

With him.

In a gazebo.

It was like being inside a dream. _My_ dream.

I chuckled as apprehension slowly descended. It helped. The sound was a confirmation of sorts; it was really happening.

"What?" he asked, and his grip around me tightened just a little. It took me a moment to realize he'd been questioning my laughter.

But I couldn't possibly tell him the truth, that this was exactly what I'd envisioned, my _Sound of Music_ fantasy coming to life, that _he_ had made it come to life. If everything else hadn't made him run off, I was sure this would, and I couldn't risk that. I _wouldn't_. So I came up with this elaborated background story, one that would make me appear less crazy in his eyes. I looked up at him once it was ready to be told, and let my eyes meet his. His gaze was blazing, somehow intense even in the fading light.

Suddenly I wanted to say something else entirely.

"I love you."

His body went rigid. His eyes widened in shock. We kept moving, but his arms felt different, frozen around me, almost as if he couldn't decide if he should keep them there.

I was paralyzed with panic. I wasn't sure where the hell it came from, but knew from his expression that sticking to the true version might actually have been better. If my intention was not to scare him away, I wasn't doing such a great job.

I peeked at him, now embarrassed, and tried to read his face as the words slowly sank in, in my mind as well as in his. I tried to feel something, regret maybe, or guilt for scaring him, but there was nothing but this swell of emotion, raw and new and impossible to shake off. It had only just dawned on me that it had always been there, at the back of my mind, but only after I uttered them, I realized how true those words were. I _had_ loved him. More than I realized. More than I probably should, after such a short time.

But there was still no response on his side, and although it had been only seconds, suddenly I was dreading his reaction. I was already mortified by my confession, which felt hastier with each passing second. Taking the words back would only make things worse because he already knew –

I started when his finger was suddenly against my chin, gently lifting it up. My panicked eyes met his more serene ones. I mentally braced myself for his inevitable rejection.

"I love you, too."

I blinked, and then gaped at him. The words echoed in my ears, refusing to sink in. It made him laugh.

"I wasn't planning on telling you so soon, though. I almost did… before." His cheeks flushed ever so slightly, and I remembered that morning a bit over a month ago. "But given you've just said it first, well…" He flashed the sweetest smile at me. "I thought you'd want me to say it back."

Laughter lingered in his eyes, but there was something else there, some seriousness that made it all more real, more than just a friendly banter. A tiny gasp escaped me when I noticed it. I let my fingers flutter across his cheek, the one I had slapped weeks ago, wondering how on earth we got from there… to this.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he pleaded, his voice breaking a little towards the end.

And I couldn't, because my head was suddenly reeling. In my mind, it was all a blur. Small moments replayed themselves like slides, as if someone had clicked some unknown fast forward button. The first time I noticed him in the office across the street. The first time I thought I learned the truth about his life. The first time he approached me, and I hit him. The first time I realized how harsh I'd been. Our first kiss at Emmett's place. The first night at his place, and the words he couldn't speak the next morning.

And now this.

"I'm thinking… that it probably _is_ too soon for declarations like that," I said honestly, and watched his face fall ever so slightly. "But I don't care." His eyes lit up; it made me smile. "I'm also thinking," I inched closer, "that I really want to kiss you."

For a brief moment, I could see my words surprised him. Then, as if he recognized them as his own, he chuckled. "I really want you to kiss me."

So I did.

And in an instant, without planning it or seeing it coming, my fairytale had suddenly become complete.


End file.
